written in paris, france
recorded on an iphone
black sack, the faces pass on the train
big grin, he’s lost in sin-mple pleasures shamed
you’re new, so new to this place
but just a few towns away
you are oddly-sorted
fairy forts and banshees call your name
newgrange, the causeway
a giant's claim to fame
speck of dust, you must recall your home
corpses at wakes, triscoll and fairy forts
we sat in class and I got a vision of a sash
covered in blood and stairs go up and up and up
I heard the words
you explained the same red round of fabric lost in pain
the steps, a death and bullets into legs
I spoke in poems, takes a brave one to say
the classroom was so grey I could never dip into my astral supply
this time, loosened the shine
talk of tier na nog untwined our minds
we cry at different things but we’re inside an orb of pain
it’s black and hard, our limbs are shards
there’s always fairy forts
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