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2012-03-17T00:01:00-04:00March 17th, 2012|Musings on life|

I have a crush on the Irish

It always rains on Saint Patrick’s Day
which seems appropriate
an excuse to huddle
drink soup and beer
rue the weather
and most things.

Even Patrick seems morose
trying to look austere
but even behind stained glass
such sad eyes
such a desolate face.

I never know what to make of saints
the dearth of hoopla
makes me nervous.

As for derision
I am too earnest
it comes out clunky
and mean.

But on the soggy day
the expats in their green shirts
the rest of us trying to pierce our politeness
with rancor
it cannot be denied

I have a crush on the Irish

their charm
their lament
all of it coated in lilt
that bouncy sweetness
masquerading as voice
I don’t care what they go on about
it dances
inside my ears.