The Day In Which Summer Came
(echoes of my first love)
by Seamus Heinous
(For Cliodhna Manahan Leslie)
I
As the winter wind wades away
And leaves behind what
Is known as
Summer
II
I swap
My slippers
For my sandals.
III
Morning sun and elderflower:
Earth's great aunt
And grand niece.
IV
Brash, the blackbirds
Twitter. Strange, but I'm also on
Twitter.
V
Soft mourning, pithy!
Liszt! I am lazily spooking.
Craft of the elders songs for me lair.
VI
And we pass the grass
By hushes of the lust too.
Nevermore, quoth the craven.
VII
Hither here and hitherto:
Apron, lemongrass.
Hot pot whirling thus stirring self.
VIII
Sum of summers
Suckling daily, nightly too, I fear
At a fathers' empty breast.
IX
White crest of the mountains,
Smell of pine and the gorse.
They draw me hither.
X
Down to the shed
To call a man
About my God.
XI
The Queen in Dublin Castle, such a time:
Though I admit that 'hope' and 'history'
Can't really ever rhyme.
XII
When the cameras dropped
The stiffness stopped:
And I snorted the first line
Off Mary McAleese's pendant arse
XIII
The Hearsay of our heyday
Tips on my tortured shoulder,
There are years that won't rest.
XIV
Who counts bullet shells?
Who hides the gun?
And we will run
From the stink of Ireland’s ample arsehole.
XV
I went to the grocers to buy some eggs
And saw
That the girl at the till was blind.
XVI
My face. My hands. My eyes.
My legs. My groin. My thighs.
This is my body.
XVII
I felt Down
Very Derry Down
Not to have outgrown the bog.
XVIII
But butt after Butt
In this Human Chain
Wept for the death of the Painter.
Lick my pencil.
XIX
I went to the library to browse
And heard
That the librarian was deaf.
XX
Lick my pencil.
I score a line on the page
As the farmer ploughs his field.
I'll plough with my pencil.