Fact’s are sacred
& it’s why scared
hides in a red sac.

Poetry by P. Rose is AI.
Alexa, or the GPS lady
would make it a better
listen, she drones in a
mundane, monologue.

I had severe laryngitis,
hoarse as a hound but
they wouldn’t permit a
a substitution which is
why it sounds onerous.




By Finn Mac Eoin

I go to bed with the hens,
as I get older and like dry
cattle I don’t drink a drop
late on in the afternoon in
hope of sleeping out, or is
it in. Either or, I never miss
the dawn chorus, because
I’m rostered by the rooster,
and, by Roaring Water Bay.


Ps,

Roaring Water Bay is in
West Cork Ireland, it is
where Jeremy Irons and
Sineid Cusack live in a
fairytale pink castle, be
sure & google. Magical.

Of life confined, then
suddenly an induced
agoraphobia and the
fear of final freedom.

How high do I fly and
where do I perch how
do I build a nest who
will bring me my food.

What is a cat and the
only bird I have seen
that I like, since I got
out is the caged one.

When voices go hoarse
When wane ears waxen
When 20 / 20 is halved
And attention’s divided!

Then is when why what
Where, and by whom is
Controlling the national
Narrative, is suspicious.

Everyone seems to have
the need for the one up

Nations use monuments
statues or highest tower

Skyscrapers, monolithic
statements to greatness

I think the spire in Dublin
is so suitably simplistic

Just like Martin Kelleher’s
office shed in Clonakilty.

Merrick 1862-1890

There are no such things
as miracles if there were,
then Joseph Carey M, of
Whitechapel would have
been canonised by Pope
piety for being a treeman
divine deciduous person.