I wanted to send
an X,
equidistant
from four corners like

two swords
crossed, a stitch
on a blue screen

a multiplication
of nothing
no sweet thing flanking
its side's

just one X

loud

Grey faced, wearing all black,
I thought you were mad
lisping spitty words to yourself
till you revealed the rosary.

                                      
You muttered,
“I thought it would stop raining,
they said it would, you’d want
to go early to get a whole
day out of it, and
did you hear of the bomb
 in Dublin, Our Lady in Achill said it
was our prayers that stopped it”.

These sporadic
slow white
flakes fall
like a shower
of ash
in a town
with no Vesuvius

There they were,
all shining
clear
and see-through
plastic
the hole’s on top
like the Pantheon
in Rome
all open to the skies
the flies
the opaque yellows and pinks
mangoes and pineapples
with names like
rasbamango and applefluff
people walked accessorized
cups in hand
brains frozen
from the combination of low fat
probiotic,
bionic yoghurt and fruits
that could never, ever
have grown in Connemara.