Prodigal Kiss

by John Buckley McQuaid

There’s a crowd of ghosts that haunts O’Connell Street
And a Spire where the Pillar used to be
Now the city boasts a mighty tourist fleet
While the Liffey’s full of longing for the sea
I’ll meet you at Clerys there under the clock
We’ll drive to Dún Laoghaire and go for a walk
The chapel’s still standing, the convent is not
Along with the school where me mother once taught

And you can be sure that we’ll never forget
The culture of vultures and dealers in debt
The struggles and Troubles, the gold, white and green
So much for our beautiful Nineteen-sixteen

And here is a place where old memories wait
Where Fates spin their threads by the Leeson Street gate
And plants for the blind are all labelled in Braille
We hadn’t a chance and so how could we fail?
Where Beckett and Oscar and Yeats had their day
And Joyce had to leave to be able to stay
Thin Lizzy’s Phil Lynott’s back from The Crusades
His statue looks at you outside of McDaid’s

And you can be sure that we’ll never forget
The culture of vultures and dealers in debt
The struggles and Troubles, the gold, white and green
So much for our beautiful Nineteen-sixteen

As Oisín returns from the land of his youth
His heart is still young ‘though he’s long in the tooth
For want of a horse, he’ll be taking the Luas
He used to be cool now he’s yesterday’s news
And where shall he go on this journey of his?
And when will he know what isn’t and is?
What wouldn’t he give for the things that he’ll miss
A touch or a glimpse or a prodigal kiss?

And you can be sure that we’ll never forget
The culture of vultures and dealers in debt
The struggles and Troubles, the gold, white and green
So much for our beautiful Nineteen-sixteen

Reproduced with kind permission of the author.