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Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
**** CAT!

the cat rang...
. . .the cat rang again
then said: "Hi! I'm not in right now but. .. "

"That **** cat
it's always on the phone
why can't it sleep on something else!"

I ****** up the cat
( still asleep )
retrieve the mobile

the cat
had left
a message

cat totally
unperturbed
by our all too human antics

the cat loves
our newfangled gadgets
asleep now on the mouse

"****...cat!" I shout
trying to get this on facebook
the cat just sneers
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
MORE TEA?

"Auntie Mabel's voice..."
(she sotto voce's me loudly)
"...smells like a ****!"

"Hush!" I try to shush her
"But she does...she does!"
"Her voice is farts!"

wish I could sink into ground
"More tea...Mabel?" I smile
offering her another jam ****
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
"WANNA SEE MY TATTOO...DO YOU?"

where her heart beat
beneath her breast

she wore a tattooed heart
upon her skin

not a Valentine's heart
of kisses and flowers

but a full sized  anatomically
correct depiction

of the real thing
so that they rose and fell

as one
as one

the heart beneath the skin
the heart upon the skin

fascinating but
even more so

her inverted *******
ripening to the touch

blossoming into being
with kisses and such

as if they had been hibernating
and had just. . . awoken
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
THROUGH VERY SHORT TIMES OF SPACE.

The red door of No.16
North Frederick Street

slams behind him as he
enters into this newly minted

morning
sunshine so thick

one feels like a fish
swimming through it.

Sunlight spangles
a tiny puddle

turning it into a jewel
that only the eye can cherish.

Ahhhh "...the ineluctable
modality of the visible."

He turns right into Upper
Dorset Street

pulling an "Ahhh...howya!"
out of the man who makes the false

teeth!

Then turning left into
Eccles Street

giving the nod to No. 7
Bloom's house in ULYSSES.

Here in its run down state
though still shining in his fictionality.

Soon they will knock it
down and what will the tourists

do then
poor things.

Sure some bright spark
will rescue it from its rubble

and the door will live again
some streets away again.

Ahhh...." the ineluctable
modality of the visible."

I go to Quinn's gym
to get my Molly

(  Philomena her name is )

a cottage cheese with pineapple
on a Weetabix base.

It is a 16th of June
somewhere in the 80's

as I retrace my own earlier
Joycean footsteps.

Rat-a-tat-tat on Bloom's door.
"Are ya there Leopold?"

But the bold Leopold
doesn't answer.

The 16th of
forever I am

"...walking through it
howsomever."

The sun smirks
as such Joyceisms.

"I am, a stride of  a time.

A very short space of time
through very short times of space."

A horse and cart as if
from the past

saunters by
timelessly.

Ah "...the ineluctable
modality of the audible."

My Molly who is really
a Philomena

spoons the deliciousness
of the creamy dessert

into her
and yes she says

mmmm...yes....mmmm

Yes.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
MINE IS THE SUNLIGHT

all night the dark
held up the sky

nailing time to time
with tiny silver studs

until a star fell and
the dark surrendered to the light

morning and its moments
birds composing the score

living notes
on the staff notation

that runs from pole to pole
slicing the sky

into its various sections
adding a tree here and there

capturing a family
of clouds

the terrific traffic
of an orchestra tuning up

a train cutting across a plain
far away cows looking like toys

a lark throwing itself
against a heaven

as if it could break through
into an eternity beyond

the infinity that
is us
Ha ha she was a very good friend and very upfront( if one can pardon such a pun)about such things. She was the one who asked me if I wanted to see her tattoo so I assume it was in an accessible space! She did tell me it was a heart but it was not or where I expected it. She ripped open her bodice and displayed the asaid forementioned tattoo much to my great surprise. She then had to tell me about her inverted ******* and what made them come out! She was just trying to shock me in her usual friendly way but alas I was unshockable and we had a good laugh. It did take over 40 years to write about it!
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
A WOMAN IS CRYING

In the next room
a woman is crying

a moon
perches upon an hotel sign

unmoved

as a new millennium
dawns

as bright as neon

the woman
still crying

her unknown
despair

shifting silently
from one century to another

human grief
unchanged

from age
to age.

A woman is crying.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
SPACE - THE FINAL FRONTIER

a glacier moves
through the Geog. lesson
outside the grass burnt brown

he parses a sentence
a blackbird gives a lesson
in singing

the quadratic equation
elopes with the doodle
waiting for the bell to ring

spanner in the words
I unable to
name a verb of manner

I stare
he glares
the class gasp

the sunlight draws
a parallelgram
on the dusty floor

I dare to boldly go
trespass gramatical boundaries
the solecism makes me a marked man

"Earth calling Dempsey...earth calling Dempsey!"
the class snigger with teacher
Sir reaches for the strap

six of the best
for a split infinitive
**** that Cap. Kirk!
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