Irish Fathers

Another morning made stale by
work’s dissipation;
he made sluggish use
of a dull razor
and from his face
did Guinness bleed.
He dabbed at it
tasted his ancestor’s elixir
and laughed at the mad poets
and the drunk Foggy Dews
and drove to work
to bask in the flourescence.

Returning home his children cried,
“Tell us again, Daddy,
about the Children of Lir!”
And he said:
“You are children of the Irish Sea
shape-shifters one and all
wearing your skin fitfully.
A tight fit you find it?
It’s because you are of the sea
restless as the waves,
having your father’s father’s
father's brine in you!”

The next morning, tired-eyed,
he returned to his shaving mirror
but missed the reflections
of the Kings of Meath,
Armagh and Tara.
Hungry for want of fathers,
he missed a sea of them.

_______________________

References:
Children of Lir
Foggy Dew