the j letter

By | 24 July 2007

the deity hangs in the air taking up &
allowing all the space there note to
future note to past the page is
the poem & the poem a defence
the press will set this in what
ever fashion they like in the irish
republic my metallic voice reverberates
& shakes the ink & the rhythms
are ours like nothing we touch
we keep touching it up the japes
there are no tapes everyone thinks
of me as a black framing device

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