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Mass
in Dublin
Weary
winds, a conjuring cajoled from Cashel, work witchery on St.Stephen's
Green;
Wail, whisper, twist, tumble the fumbling jumble of furious
fog living in familiar furrow;
Fling grainy gray tear drops of mist with penitent's petulant
propulsion.
Torrents of Dubliners surge driven, desperate storm-tide,
towards Irish banks;
Cascading; roaring; wending and washing over workaday pavement
and pauper
Blazoned with fresh burnished vigor over long vanquished victims'
malaise.
Mushrooming umbrellas bloom busily above boot black business
suits;
Pock, puff up, and loll the lanes laden with the bone and
marrow of the Liffey.
Grafton gravamen; Celtic certainty; Patrick's patina wolfishly
worn on icy O'ysters
carefully caressing lascivious laptops; suckling cellulars
to eager EUroticised ears;
Clucking, clicking, marching miasma, animated, afire with
phantasm phone friends;
Forty-ish faces fixed on fair future, processing paradise,
computing cloying comfort.
Pugnacious Peugeots fume parallel to pedestrian path, pining
to participate;
Saabs sigh.
Babel of Baile Átha Cliath, jangling juices of Joyce joylessly,
touting toothless Trinity;
Goodness, Guinness, Georgian geometry, beery bogs, punts,
pubs, savants
in sepulchers.
Improbable
prophet perilously propped on penury's prow parsing on
rosary-rutted fingers, leprous lethargy, while willy-nilly
his wicker
wheelchair, woman piloted, passes Pearse.
Leathery feathery lily-stem neck nods, bobs, trills and throbs,
gurgling
gales of Glorias.
Soft scapular on softer scapula; garrote of grace vested;
inviting
vermilion veins;
Draws daggers of disdain to flash unabashed; unheeded through
rheumy
retinas.
Paschal pair tussled, tossed by turbid turbulent dross, cleave
to
courageous currach.
Artless artifice, hallowed humanity, sailing single-minded,
Nassau now
to navigate; Wicklow's waves shortly; sweet scent of a Carmel's
clasp in
accustomed alley allures.
Credo's comfort, Suscipiat's sustenance, Agnus, Absolvo; ancient
sanguine Sacrifice.
Benighted beggars faithfully following careful compass beyond
bounds of
Bogmen;
vivisecting visionaries, patrician pirates; quavering quid
notes
sounding howling hooli.
Noon noticed, bells bong, thickened throng, regulated roar
rises as
riptide around
timorous time; eternal tether; vicious indifference, intemperate
vivacity;
surround, seethe.
Ardent altars, afire for lithe lambs, devoutly devour devotees;
banish
banal blemish.
Cutthroat, throat cut, driven, drool, hollow, heather, difference
decided
by single stroke.
-
Written July 1998 as the author witnessed a wheelchairbound
man and
his
female companion working their way through the noon crowds
near St.
Stephen's Green to get to Mass. -
^
Biography
"Liam
Ronan" is the nom de plume for Joseph Behe, Jr. An administrative
law judge specialising in child and elder abuse hearings for
the Commonwealth of Pennyslvania, he retired in March 1999
and moved to Cahermuckee West Cork. Born in 1949, he took
a degree in Literature from the Harrisburg Community College,
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania with subsequent studies in abnormal
psychology and child psychology at The Pennsylvania State
University. At present "Liam" is writing a novel
centered on life in the West of Cork. His interests are chiefly
related to writing poetry and prose; and, inhaling the works
of Flannery O'Connor, A.S. Pushkin, Mikhail Sholokov; and,
James Joyce.
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