Slow breath in
hold   then breath out
pause for a wee while 
then in that brevity
I kick sand
on Sandymount Strand.

Now, I am out and about
waiting while Daedalus fashions a cow,
so she could mate with the bull,
pregnant, she bore the Minotaur
fruitlessly.

Heavy clouds sweep in
off the Irish sea
to blow these dreams away.

It's 1943
and Ireland is neutral,
the Nazi ambassador approves
of this complexity.

Not for me, Leopold Bloom,
a Jew, late of Eccles Street,
Dublin, full of tales of brave Ulysses
I recline.

For me, evil is simplicity itself.
bought and paid for
by the sin of pride

Off the shelf, we have
Mr Éamon de Valera
the Anerican-born Irish man
close friend of Franco
and the holy, roman
apostolic church

The tempo is faster now 
me, scurrying into the past,
digging, always digging....

 

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