Pól Ó Lorcáin
Paul Larkin

Chroniclers are privileged to enter where they list, to come and go through keyholes, to ride upon the wind, to overcome in their soarings up and down, all obstacles of distance, time and place.
Charles Dickens - Barnaby Rudge, Chapter The Ninth

Checked Out in Tescos Prussia Street

Checked Out

Her bent shape proclaiming her cauterised fate
Four hours solid in the same place

A countenance moulded to a stare
The shape of a checkout chair

Through sheer fatigue she lets me through the gate
A mistake
Me and my hyperactive Irish speaking kids
Iad ag léimtí, craiceáilte, suas agus síos
Full on shopping, toilet rolls, pan lids

Close the gate after you she snaps crackles and pops
Face severe as a headache, ears closed to small talk

Until I say

Jeez ye'll be glad to see the back of this day
The last bar-code pinged and zapped
She relaxed, collapsed her back
So that her soul shone in her eyes

My feet up and a glass of wine

We would never embrace
But we are joined in time and space
By the creased lines of our gaze
The Sisyphus blind faith

In our everyday resurrections

@Paul Larkin
Prussia Street
Mí an Mheithimh 2011


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