Éanna Patrick O’Sullivan Poem


Shy small skinny peasant
Up to the big smoke
‚Are these things safe’ to his brother half jokingly
As the train unstuck and rolled
Away from wet Tralee
Late summer golden mornings
First taste of UCD
Clinging to the wall
As thousands burst out of lecture halls
Like an unsettled hive of bees
Back to Blackrock for safety
A good half-hours walk along the carriageway
And down Booterstown Avenue
Shoulder your way clumsy
Through the rugby yaws and those inexplicable
Upturned shirt collars

Later the great epiphany, discovery of booze
And the darky pokey student club as was then
No idea about now, probably called a Service Centre
Probably wouldn’t even get a decent pint
Not back then, they were grand and you’d gaze through the smoke
And the Madchester sounds at John Fogherty’s cousin
Never introduced her to me the fecker
Perhaps he considered me unsuitable company
Or maybe she didn’t talk to him either