landsong

inspired by my readings of listen to the land speak by manchán magan

i don’t really like bike riding

except if it was

down the river roe

from my dad’s town to benone

and from there, the entire length of the beach

or maybe to a holy well,

where i could heal my feet

and put a rag on a tree

just to see if the earth could absolve me

i don’t really want to swim in open water

because of the time, i almost died,

after a regatta, when an amoeba

got into my bloodstream through a blister

i sweated and vomited for days

and woke up hazy, in the ICU

a week passed,

my parents divorced

but i would like to swim

off the antrim coast

just to see

if there was a hazel tree beneath it

i’d put a rag on that tree too

maybe then,

they’d leave our land

and lough neagh would no longer be

poisonous to all living things

and the sperrins would be at peace

no fear of extraction

from a foreign power

for foreign gain

while the poor nod on for crumbs

and maybe, the bogs would be well-fed

soaking up our storms, our mistakes,

and preserving memories

of the times we’ve long forgotten

maybe then,

my dad would realize

this sun blistered place

isn’t our home

as much as we love it.