Death Of A Floorspot(For Me Ole Mucker Lucky Mike) Poem by Dónall Dempsey
Death Of A Floorspot(For Me Ole Mucker Lucky Mike)
That night
at Borough Market
we carefully constructed
our words
placed them delicately
upon the air
... we whispered to them...
(“Let those who have ears…hear! ”)
Et viola...
watch them crumple at our feet in a heap
of useless bloody words.
People looked at us
as if to say
“Whatcha bring them words in here for! ”
Ghosts now
we retreated to our seats
haunted by
what had happened.
That night
journeying on the Underground
strap-hanging & laughin’
chattin’ & talking
our spirit
passed amongst those
captive in our carriage
listening to
our words
jumping like acrobats
between us
without ever…falling
our voices
a circus
thought tottering on high wires
putting our heads in the open jaws of terrible concepts
clowning around
with ideas
our laughter
a carousel
we couldn’t get off of
people almost
applauded
when we departed
each of us going
our separate ways
vanishing into
the dark.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/6/2024 1:45:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
People almost applauded when we departed....what a clever line...Did they almost applaud because of your work? ? ? or because you were leaving the stage? ? ? How funny...We love our 'WORD' children so, and want the very best for them always, and I think we die a little every time they are not well received....understand this feeling so very well...