← Poems

GAELTACHT GHAZALS

XII

There's a redwood tree on the shores of Loch Eske
There's a Nazi submarine at the bottom of Loch Swilly

I'm not saying it's true 
And I'm not saying it's not

Black magick or white magick 
don't be tinkering with it

I'm at An Port thinking about Moby Dick
Cook that Pollock in milk and onions

That's not order that's abuse of order
A false chart & a forged map

Are these private hallucinations?
Am I coming through?