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Private Planetarium I breathed so much darkness that the stars started coming out of each exhale and flew in the airy immenseness. Gleaming schemata faces, words, cities, secrets my good friends in the internal dome of my new planetary cosmos. You and I there too, constellations of blood galaxies of sperm that create symbols specially interlocked that only the imaginative knowledge can decipher. And far away time passes wide river watering what is coming with what has passed, those calmly sleeping in everyone — embryos, events, pains, newborns. A serpent wrapping my humble cosmos, a serpent biting its fatty tail.
SONG OF SONGS Come, lean your blonde head in my yearning arms I have some songs to sing for you now that birds don’t lull you anymore. The night, look, passes dressed in black, all are asleep around us. Come, my precious, my enchantress, and let me breathe in your refined aroma, oh come, and let me sing a song for you again. Come lean your blonde head in my embrace now that birds don’t lull you anymore and only I can sing for you
…recognised it, but no one knew its cause, not even Michael, for the story of Liam Dooley’s untimely arrival in the barn was one that Caitlin would take with her to the grave. “Caitlin, when are you going to tell me all about it?” Caitlin’s head jerked round, and she stared at Nora with surprise. “Tell you about what?” she asked, not for one moment believing that Nora could read her thoughts, yet feeling instantly guilty and embarrassed. Nora appeared equally uncomfortable. “I don’t mean to pry into personal affairs—I know you don’t like it—but I think we’re close enough not to have too many secrets from each other.” “What are you talking about?” Caitlin was still guiltily thinking about Clifford Hamilton and Liam Dooley. “There’s something going on between you and Padraig. People are beginning to talk about it in the village. You know what they’re like for gossip. They’re saying that you’re either…” Nora stopped talking and looked away. “Well, what are they saying?” Caitlin’s annoyance showed plainly on her face. “Nothing of any importance,” Nora answered evasively. She was obviously ruffled. “Well? Are you going to tell me or not?” “I will when you tell me what the long tongues are saying in the village,” Caitlin replied stubbornly. “Nothing,” Nora insisted. “Then nothing’s happening,” Caitlin said. “Shall we go?” “Oh Caitlin, stay where you are.” Nora tried to look at Caitlin, but her eyes kept moving away. Her face was flushed and she appeared embarrassed. “They say you’re either planning to join the Church … or you’re sleeping with Father Padraig.” Caitlin burst out laughing. She wanted to say she was sleeping with Father Padraig. “What’s so funny?” Nora asked. “The idea of sleeping with Father Padraig.” Nora could see nothing funny in that. She was sure it was sacrilegious. “Aren’t you upset that they should say such a thing?” “Of course not,” Caitlin replied. “That kind of talk reflects as much on them as on me. What is it Mother Ross says all the time? ‘What do you expect from a pig but a grunt?’” “Is it true then that you’re going to join the Church? Or does that idea make you laugh too?” Nora’s tone was petulant. She obviously did not…
Promise You promised not to get surprised today when the ugly woman lifts her skirt and shows you her garden nor when the man next door who lived his life stupidly will show you the wind’s direction nor when you sit at the bus stop observing how people react to pain, today, you promised not to get surprised unless you meet the young student from the house behind yours who you occasionally watch through her open curtains, in her bed making heavenly moves under the influence of the full moon