Hour 14: “The Land knows you, even when you are lost”

“The Land knows you, even when you are lost”

Does my homeland know me?

Child of the Gael

In my tattered, fading cloak, fatigued

Without the language the land gave us

Does the grass recognize me

as one of its own?


A child uprooted

From the sycamore and the chestnut

From the willow and the linden

From the long, deep alleys of  winters

From the brick, the slate, and the chimney


The land of my home knows me

A child of the Gael

In my tattered, fading cloak, fatigued

Without the language the land gave us

The grass recognizes me

as one of its own

Hour 13: Sciamachy


Dream them up

Shadows upon the surface of the mind

Make them all, invite them in


Preoccupied with omens, prophets

Remnants of old memories, demons

Make them to drink them, invite them to fight them



Follow them, they follow you

Watch them, they watch you


Because a shadow is also a reflection

And a shadow is also an absence

You fill it to fight it, but you cannot win

Hour 12: Where is Anne Boleyn’s Head?

Where is Anne Boleyn’s Head?


Displayed on spikes

A warning to others

Heads on spikes

Anne’s head

Ladies covered over it as soon as it had fallen

Carried away lifted removed and wrapped

In a chest here ready

Laid to rest beneath the chancel

There they remained

A skeleton small

Beneath the chapel floor

Hour 11: Dear Rose, Age 18

Dear Rose, age 18

It won’t be as much fun as you think.

I could explain, but you won’t believe me.

                       – Your Future Self

Hour 10: Selkie


He stole my skin, my face

Don’t romanticize my situation

He has my soul

On a shelf

In a dry corner of the house


Let me go back to the sea’s hush

To the cool blanket of fog

Under a dock

At dawn


He swears his love is


But I am damn raw

On a moonbeam clock

I count the nights until

I kill him for the key

Hour 9: The Great Gatsby

The Great Gatsby

The shape of restlessness

Sparkling in the night

Bated breath

Your love potion

Is pure poison

Your face, your ache

is familiar


Her well-loved eyes

A thin red circle

Where your heart used to be

In its stead, 

A pale gold odor

What a grotesque thing

Dear Jay,

What were you thinking?

Hour 7: Drag


Bluegrass reminds me of a shit town

Worse than dirt

You can drag your dreams up north on a bus

They won’t come back

From a place so shattered


It’s lonely out there once you hit the road

The stars look on and the trees pass in the windows,

But they all seem to live in the past

You can drag your hope around America

It won’t come back


Love lives in my heart like a mad dog

Trying to get out and

Who would you loose it on,

Wish it on,

When you know it won’t let go?

You can drag your love by the throat

It won’t love you back

Hour 6: Snake and Mouse

Snake and Mouse

Eyelid slide, shutter click

Bristle of fur, whisker twitch

A furious beat, a tiny heart

A drum, a time piece, with no escapement.


All the while, scales of gold

Moving, articulated, slow

A calculation, a maneuver

Black-eyed, dead-eyed, taught.


Inevitable darkness falls,

A being’s true nature calls

contraction, constriction,

A gentle slide to oblivion.

Hour 5: The Same Sea

The Same Sea

I climb down to the water

Where paper rains into the sea

The same sea that, when I sleep,

Has a song I can sing along to

The same sea that, when I sleep,

Will tangle me if I step into her surf,

Eroding the sand out from under me.

She always threatening to drown me.