thursday 27th august

piece one

branches hammer at my morning
from the bus the flags are yawning
the only sign of life’s toward
the centre now where dreams are shored

the covered mountains
smoking far ahead
still lazy and in bed

piece two

europa’s brassy brassery
o fantastic-ary
all should be bustly
but aren’t that fuss-ily

all seem relaxedly
quite un-taxedly
not taxidermed-ly
unlike the english
who like to squirmid-y

and here’s the coffee shop-pery
with its breakfast-ery
but iIl go a wandery
not money squandery

and there’s the sign-ery
in all light finery
not quite on time-ry
like my rhymery

journey to omagh

just past dungannon signs
already hints of omagh
these are like any other roads
it is not a spectacular journey which is fine

enough – if it wasn’t for the label subway
(it is not macdonalds here)
ireland’s meat no longer
sits on two warm halves
but is wrapped in soft white dough