“Double, “ you heard him say as
Saint Jerome steps off the ledge of a window
In the Queen’s hotel in Ennis.
The hindu wife of a lost dead
Husband added wisdom to her bargain
Followed by stiff wreaths of dark thinking
In a world of men in outlived boots
Facing away from signs of this world with heavy whispers.
There is a mountain of stained arms and a sea where, I have heard,
Children gently change to fish
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