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Poteen
--Irish moonshine, Sligo
So much for that other famine;
there were vicious spirits in the potato still.
At eleven sharp the keepers rang the bell
and three chaps slipped-in
as if summoned,
on cue, as if they'd done it before.
One pulled the green shade to the floor;
another locked the red door,
to admit
among us only the whole world of those three,
the two who veritably lived behind, and me.
So how come there were nine
at one o'clock; I counted nine three times,
and all in one conversation, one dream,
and I was in it, too. Children
as old men
and one lady who wasn't actually, confessing
talk over occasional passes of the poteen,
they'd surrendered to the
sheer labor of performances.
Each spoke to seven others on stage.
They kept three fingers in my glass; the bouquet
was delicate wild flowers
floating in kerosene
and I was choiceless as Adam when his only Eve
asked whether there was anything he'd like to eat.
The pub spun, spilled in
circles, the dame
touched finger to jug, to sealed lips
to tell me I've come to see, just listen.
What you protestant boys call
science,
she might have said, we know as snakeskins,
so pay attention. When eternity began
we were poor before God,
and our pants
pockets imitate our souls to this very hour;
the justice of laughter is the only Irish empire
you'll ever see. Let whoever
wants other
pay the price of it. The one incapable of hatred
gets sad and funny angers to chew-on instead.
Remembering all is the vice
of mercy, remember,
and nationally we drown in memory for a living,
the Trinity's straight-men in the joke of everything,
talking openly with the dead,
the gone, the unseen
as much as to each other, honest off all maps,
but at escaping blame for the Divine Joke masters.
Don't our escapes make heaven
bitter-green!
We're the best at finding art in coincidence,
who were forced to pull away the masks of pretense
that things merely actually
happen, an old
man's ice-cream of an idea. Our Dads'
potato booze beats it, our Dads', who said
Give us, 0 Lord, one thing,
your own cold
love of details and we'll get-up merciless
humility enough to laugh at the wickedness
of your helpless pleasure
in making it
though we be trashed by that love daily
and humiliated at the bank as Guatemalans.
In other words, we were Chinamen
in China, taken
by the worlds we got rid-of by joining
by three a.m., all we could bring
to life with bittersweet,
hand-me-down themes;
a day, a street, only needed naming
to be answered duly with a counter-summation.
They smiled grievously as
demons on poteen;
my eyes swam in goodwill lost enough
I had no self to be self-conscious of.
Generations were on stage
all at once
and whole parts of sentences sufficed to name
salient episodes by four a.m.
So this is the joke of mercy,
the stone's
silence opened-up, the cruel kindness,
heart's foolery for love performed in mind.
So this is the other dream
we dream to make
our dreams tolerable. I found the door,
the street, the pub gone among dark stores,
and hitched out to Drumcliff
Church the next day
to Willy's stone and the round crosses, to a knowing
dark as squid's ink: our Fathers stole
our lives, before God, to
squeeze-out
their own, and then left in the old charade
of dignity. Are leaving forever in parade,
dragging a thousand years
with them, no doubt
denying what the dead really covet for dinner,
whose breath is cut flowers over the hymnal.
They did what they had to
do, and made-up
ideals ex post facto; in the discrepancies
thereof they found a freedom, in nothing less.
And those who left, who couldn't
forgive Europe
a word, most especially it the word was peasant?
Nor all her sensual ennuis, however pleasant?
Nor even Mother-Church, with
whom she conspired
to by-pass the lives of the grovelling volk
with a spiritual punch-line to the dirty joke?
My Catholic Mom was such
an Irish one,
who quit her people for a clever German lad
for whom soil was normal. And here I am
with my commandments of fear
and love, and desires
breathless as poteen in chilling night air.
First published in "Milkweed
Chronicle"
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