Oft repeated lines
closed, interstitial times
Never failed to democratise,
criticise the eyes that light up
when you shut up
and go your own way
so far away,
singing a song that’s not your own
in a land where you’re unknown
and you see the signs in those oft repeated lines
text and ties, unloved and foreign
played for a fool, not your time
used your tongue to tie around the neck
of a slippery fish, not to be seen
to be obscene, ludicrous
a joke, not funny though, a lack of euro
not young, not thin, not full of wine
a chailín óg na mbriathar what could you possibly find
in this Wreck, this sandbar, this sunken face
where are those oft repeated lines
the signs o’ the times,
between the signs of age
not your words, nor mine falling on their page
but I digress, I feel pain in my chest,
a heartsick pain, a desire for your flow
unkindness wilting in your shadow
Oft repeated lines, running down my face,
silver whiskers on my brows and chin
running from an angel, running on empty
Running out of words and my well runs dry,
Who will repeat my words if I do not?
Words are all I have, and oft repeated
lines
