Over time, The memories. They fade. The impressions on the cerebral cortex. They soften.
Low Tide at Dún Laoghaire
I sit on the sea wall beneath the Roger Casement statue. I look out onto Dublin Bay toward Sandy Cove. I can see the James Joyce Martello Tower at the end of the curling shoreline about a quarter mile away. I think I see the Forty Foot, too. But I’m not sure.
Pain in Vain
I stand up from my seat. A pain missile fires from my tailbone. It shoots down my right buttock ...
Don’t fear the funeral singer
I have seen the future of music, and it is a small Irish woman clad in stark white pajamas.