for Ira Cohen your death was so real like being in a movie you were buried today & bobby said it was all very jewish & some little kid had ½ his body ½ his mouth blown off by a car bomb in iraq …

CONUNDRUM as for me I am busy although it may not appear so drinking coffee reading, writing and thinking. I’m recalibrating the figures of a beautiful problem – turning my hand now to maths. for what can be solved by words or by romance …

Song for Ballyheigue County Kerry, Ireland Twig fire limn eight fairy in a lour cave mouth Four of whom a tabor thrum Four of whom breathe zephyr through wee fife All of whom leap star, the joy of life All of whom sing lark, …

Kilkenny “Pour ce, aimez tant que voudrez, Suivez assemblées et fêtes, En la fin ja mieux n’en vaudrez Et n’y romperez que vos têtes. . . .” – Francois Villon: Double Ballade L’horloge meurt les heures s’arrêtent les petits cafés chuchotent sous la pluie …

The Spirit of Gracious Living Someday the sea will rise and reclaim this archipelago of parishes rolling green cascade coldly redolent of salt and weed calling back flesh and bone and blood and slate and stone the lights disappearing like a dying ship on …

We fill [out] your fingers I guess We splinter them and kiss them with sandalwood We weaken more words with every word we use No one recycle any more language Remember language as a tenement in the house made of music(k Each white-wash of …

Previously on Battlestar Galactica Adolescence It was, they discovered, a new and endless source of energy. Not stable (those rolling brownouts) but incredible. Efflorescing heat and light, great gaudy blooms of it like bruises, like lipstick dyeing the threads of a tissue. Peaking in …

Burn the Bankers — OUT! A short distance from the foot path, across from the flats which do their best to wall in the ordinary decent criminals and their mammies and their mammies’ mammies, there stands an outside wall put together with everyday breeze …

Ginsberg in Fingal I wouldn’t write the poem ’till I was in the right mind, Ireland, but something is rising inside of me. Your machinery of unvoiced gossip is too much for me. When are you going to take off your clothes? Why are …