Dublin
1916
Letters being dropped
in postal slots
alongside Pearse proclaiming
the strength of the dead.
Plunkett's bangles clink
counterpoint to the patter
of anxious feet heading
for the street
and a bewildered cry of
Bejaysus, what have the
bastards done now?
Connolly baits and
De Valera calculates and
far away Yeats
begins a dream...
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