At_Last

To Hell or Connacht G.F.E. McGuiness

Those of you who Conn descend Or on whose label Niall bends Lend sight of mind and ears of pride Inclined where axis, Mide, abides. Pretentious vault of faithless stars Of knights of Mars who took the fifth From Uisnech, emptied, whole of five, Flickering memory, faint exists. What once was wheel is now a cam Firmament uncentered reeling, sham Of swings, erratic. Life in sway, So deftly spun astray. Dizzying, foreign axis, roped Eccentric swirlings, flung of hope Cavitation's course, depravity, Tossed, coerced, of tangent gravity. Attend these thoughts, dear friend or not, Grasp these spinnings which have blotted Uisnech's center gone Olden wisdoms overcome Whirled of hostile paths through shambles Inapposite wraths and brambles Trekked to west to bog in ruts In fest of hell-oppressed Connacht. Tickets free to Satin's lair Drain Donegal, Kerry, Cork, and Clare. Likewise, Louth to Longford scratched, Emptied hamlets patch by patch.

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