Unidentified girls of Pembroke sing

The sea was so rough and my hands is so tough

   A long time agoooo

Blow-boy-blow – – my diggyman

Drunkdrunkdrinky

 It goes on like this actually goes on like this coming out of the walls

                      In a vicious glandular whisper
Did the stones learn it from the girls aurora borealis

Songs of the girls trapped in stone ,

wind in the chimney fattens then rakes the fire

Pentecostal  polish on my collar

Mixing in the sheen flakes of death
Fly ont’ the spit of strathspey re-born again to die on whale-jaw hill

The stench of the white man precedes me
 Here come Pegasus, bags loaded, walking sideways, it is not only our fancy.

Hi Peggy, on this rottenest of days the sun comes out to appal.

Black Polly Harvey’s out of breath, deliberately stumbles in her plucking

  The most beautiful, the most insouciant, still craven

Polly

                  .  .hurtling

               Then wandering the chalk groves                        hand in the hand
Louche, douche, I perve on you in the showering can

 The air still burnt with our conversion.
Morning with Ernest Louis Matthewsand breakfast by boat-

Frying eggs on s flint of tin, watch the birds of extinction

                                                                                                       Caper
   Look away from the earth, where the atmosphere and its inert lover twitches, the

 commingling licks

exchange of cumulus rump, voluptule

fire among the bitches
As we cusp you remarke on that pleasnought smell

Some sort of     . . .     sea-keg        rides the continuous albas                     above yonder
Make your head as rough as possible

             A major dirge oafs the lung

As we make way with square oars to the Blaskets