Author Information
Memories
Its easier
Now you cry
A million kisses
Sweethearts know
When you die
Rivers crossed
The coldness
The useless nails
In my hands
The water wash
Its Redhill in winter
Its Tulrahan now
Johnny sitting there
Smoking loads of fags
Why has he come around
Do I have any information for him
And the old cap
Half sat on his head
For all the world to see
A rye old fuck
Cap an all
Lives up the road
I remember as a child when I lived in Portliaose
The church had the stations of the cross
It was always his feet I would see
All nailed up and crossed
It was the story of his feet
As I knelt and prayed
It was then I knew in my own soul
That as you suffered for your feet
That I would suffer for your soul
So Johnny raises his cap and bids you farewell
Leaves you sitting by the table
That's what my Father is like
It's like the table isn't there
This poem is for you.
