The Door

When all your planning for currency schemes,
Social structures of equity,
Programmes for the diminution
Of sad loneliness, choosing of anthems,
Disputations over tartans and the body of John Knox 
Mouldering in parking space number twenty three
When all the analysis of Ireland’s borders and the vetting
Of a new Scandalignment of niceties
I say when all that is through
You’re going to have to show the lying
Manipulating murderous divisive bastards
The Door.

Author: Duncan MacNae

Exiled Gael, scion of the Dust Bowl, dweller within Divine Grace, admirer of mountains, I have made my peace with trout and the starlings. Looking for a river and healing trees. duncanmacduncan5@gmail.com View all posts by Duncan MacNae