Wednesday, September 18, 2013

THERE'S A SERIAL KILLER ON THE LOOSE

(For Eileen, Nancy and Marie Barrington)

I used to have three aunts
Now I have none
Not one.

Not a single spirited spinster left
To people those Tralee to Dingle
Hair-pin nights
Full of Harvey wall banger hillman impish tales.
Treacherous bends always leading to perfidious Albion.
And finally
Oliver.
Always Oliver.
Then with Cromwell cursed
Rousing choruses of West's Awake
Puttering into Ballyferriter roaring Blasket sound

Stopping off in O Cathain's for the one drink
Or the dozen
The bar packed
All drinking the syphillitic shillings from Haughey's island
Our King, our Berlusconi, our Napoleon
But no Elba for that Chieftain
That Royal Republican
Now you’re talking
Talking furious words
Crossing the Guinness border
Dumping the Bearla
Digging up the Crested Ten
Preparing the Red Breast.
Words as gaelige
Sharp as pikes
That no clock would mute
And no-one would call time on.

I used to have three aunts,
Now I have none.
Gone
Gone
Gone
Those glorious Edwardian feminists
All Percy French Germaine Greer Father Murphy
Not one of the three ever missing the chance
To set heather blazing.

I hope you are starting to get my point
I used to have three aunts
Now I have none
How much more proof does one need?
That there is a fucking serial killer on the loose
And the weird thing is
I just can't seem to get anyone to care.

And even I
-never short of a phrase or two -
Don't have the words
Within me
To talk about
Whom
I
Think
He
Has
His
Eye
On
Next
.
There is a serial killer on the loose.
I used to have three aunts.

Now I have none.

















1 comment:

  1. Nice one, Kevo, I really like it, have posted on Facebook and Twitter, very true to the aunts!

    ReplyDelete