Selected Poems
Our coat of arms
Doesn't herself know, the boy always ran hot.
On those first cold late October days of school
and not a sight of a feckin snow cloud, anywhere
his ma forced the dreaded puffy coat upon him.
Being a respectful boy, he extended his right arm out
like a croppy rebel prisoner headed to the gallows.
The lad bore the brunt and mantle of heat across his back.
There was no time to fill his pockets with bits of gum or barley.
He curled the wee left arm into fluff filled shackle beast.
His da knew better than to plead his case to his ma.
Himself held his head high as his ma zipped up.
a noosed hood tight about his head and neck.
He stood proud and silent suffering, waiting for hangman
like young Roddy Mc Corley at the foot of Toome Bridge.
Never a complaint on his lips but steam grew under his eyes.
When they made it out of sight and just around the corner
his da nimbly freed the lad. Boyo's red sweat filled face
in relief fell, his breath sigh, cooled across his wet chest.
Unzipped rush of heat that'd made Satan himself weep.
Boyo skipped the way to school, a free happy little Irishman.
On those first cold late October days of school
and not a sight of a feckin snow cloud, anywhere
his ma forced the dreaded puffy coat upon him.
Being a respectful boy, he extended his right arm out
like a croppy rebel prisoner headed to the gallows.
The lad bore the brunt and mantle of heat across his back.
There was no time to fill his pockets with bits of gum or barley.
He curled the wee left arm into fluff filled shackle beast.
His da knew better than to plead his case to his ma.
Himself held his head high as his ma zipped up.
a noosed hood tight about his head and neck.
He stood proud and silent suffering, waiting for hangman
like young Roddy Mc Corley at the foot of Toome Bridge.
Never a complaint on his lips but steam grew under his eyes.
When they made it out of sight and just around the corner
his da nimbly freed the lad. Boyo's red sweat filled face
in relief fell, his breath sigh, cooled across his wet chest.
Unzipped rush of heat that'd made Satan himself weep.
Boyo skipped the way to school, a free happy little Irishman.
