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Poem

It's New Year, 1979, at Funderland in the RDS in Dublin. 
In the cold calculation of the January air, a young girl tries to talk 

Poem

A queen in a palace, slumped on a throne,
Surrounded by servants but all alone.
Heavy with handshakes, bunches of flowers,
jewels, crowns, grinning for hours.

The mysteries of zigomar
Poem

The phone rings
But never long enough
For the Slow Man.

By the time
The set’s switched on
His favourite programme’s over.