“ Ejaculations are a
     boy product of
erections, seemingly “

For Twenty Four Years

Oh t’was many the time in
dark days of yore, when I
smelt the meat stench of
next house, Kearney Vore.

Though it must have been
worse, as it was, no Palace,
for poor “Denny Pa” Walsh,
“Living Next Door To Alice”

                 <>

30, 31, 32, 33. Are council
houses in a terrace known
Canon Sheehan Place in
Mallow County Cork Ireland.
I lived at 31 Denny Pa at 32
So now you must do the math.

There is no bloom, in loss.
Death, for any reason is a
wilting, the fall of autumn.

A fading away, and why you
put a bouquet of flowers on
my coffin is a ****** mystery.

An antonym to a rotting corpse,
but what really ****** me off, is
that they’re not even Carnations.

Zionist Angered Saxons,
And, Shamericans agree,
That the Irish, despite all
Their literary achievements,
Are seriously and deviously,
Even devoutly, anti semantic.

The Tullamore Dew is just a
Metaphor in common usage.
It is usually associated with
The word Offal, or Offaly, in
Some instances, when there’s
A noun being nicely nuanced.

But it was The Palestinians got
The Dues out of Dublin without
A single shot being fired, no more
Leopold Blooms and Molly B the
Tahiti Ketch of Pete Hogan sunk to
the depth’s in The Mediterranean Sea.


Ps

The title is not a question
But a statement

It’s real the Israels left
Just like the Romans
Who never came or
The Danes who did
But wished they didn’t
Or like the English who
Would have liked but
Were unable to stay.
Good riddance to the
Lot of them I say, keep
Them out, but they tell
Me that there is a Dew
Still lurking in Tullamore,
Bring on the Palestinian
Refugees, we might need
Them to throw stones just
Like Finn Mac Cool did.

Israil closes their
embassy in Ire-land

Staff to leave country
Irish jumping for joy.

******* transplants
Free to all *******.

  Sin on Harris said
  INRI is next to go.

Ireland is the best
Country in the world

To invest money in
Because your capital

Will always be Dublin
But don’t tell the Gews.

Just as the flame
Holds to the wick
And the wick to
The wax and the
Wax to the stick,

The wind watches
And waits until
The final flicker
And that’s when it
Kidnaps the smoke.