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I have been here once before – It was a long time ago, I don't remember when.But as my father handed me the axe-headImages exploded in my brain.
At swimming once,I went to turn from front to backand just kept turning,just kept turning,turning over,over and over,till the swimming teacher said,
Dada taught me cards.Sitting in his suit of pants and vest.A fistful of joker-red hair strewn across his brow.His big belly like a cannon ball.
Dada has stories from Calcuttawrapped up in his big belly.When he belched they would unravel.
Billy chased me round the playgroundwith hands full of fists
Billy yelled at me across the football pitchwith a mouth full of stings.
When Harry went awayhe stole a part of Mum.No-one warned us. No-one said.We looked and looked for ages –
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
Once everything was bigand you were small,but year after year your shadow crept up the wall and you grew tall.
Nobody can see my name on me.My name is insideand all over me, unseenlike other people also keep it.Isn't my name magical?
I told a whopper, a fib, a lie.Slipped out of my mouth. It was slimy, sly.