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Donall Dempsey
Poems
Aug 2020
HITHERING AND TITHERING WATERS OF...
HITHERING AND TITHERING WATERS OF...
Aaw sure she's my own
little Finnegans Wake.
For my little skeowsha
language is lava
the mind is molten
flowing.
She catches tones and home
in on the last word.
"pleaseyawannanicecupof...TEA?"
She knows how to
stick question marks on
things like
"...sweets?"
The thunder scares her
on Thursday
& becomes
Thundersday.
The flies bother her on Friday...
becomes Flieday.
Not realiasing she is
quoting Mr, Joyce
following in his WAKE.
Or she makes up her own
"ONESDAY...TWOSDAY
WEDDINGDAY...FATTERDAY
SOMEDAY!"
She my little trinketotes
my dear ***** Dumpling.
I read her to sleep.
Not a peep
when Anna Livia Plurabelle...
tells her tale.
Beside the tickling waters of.
Beside the chuckling waters of.
Beside the laughing waters of.
She loves
the music of it all.
"Again!"
she agains it!
" Can't hear with the waters of.
The chittering waters of.
Night now.
Tell me, tell me, tell me elm.
Night night!
Tellmetale of stem or stone.
Beside the rivering waters of..
Hithering tithering waters of.
Night."
Written by
Donall Dempsey
Guildford
(Guildford)
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