GAELTACHT GHAZALS

VI

This land is not tied to reason or logic
The past stains the present like blood

They went to Chicago, Yonkers or Brooklyn
Life was better there but they cried every night

It is not a matter of logic or reason
Thererin lies its order

The weather is changing
There's a fire in my head

I live many lives at odds with each other
Tectonic plates grinding & shifting