Tuesday, July 21, 2009

No Bad Day For Believers


Sadly, we came to Troy and lost the job of
Pumping out Helens like so many gallons of blood
Then on we went , seeking, searching, lying
(Lots of us are damned in the lungs.)
Meanwhile, Lazarus, at six feet, was the last in the boat,
Was the last in the grave,

Then they came: the solid, impressive irish
With their rust and their tooralooms
And touching their treacherous hearts
Walking about with closed eyes
With The traps of life
With the last resurrection.

For Frank McCourt

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