Nil-Hue

Somewhere in a dark room
Mists are mistaken
For spiders webs
Softly sifting through the air
In beautiful motion, like
Those seahorses
Lovingly negotiating, the pull
And trusting language of the sea
Its deep shifting tides

A grimy underpaid
Emigrant boy is printing yet
Another copy of Finnegan's
Wake

He's never read a word
For his language
And the language of Joyce
Are very different

On a break he exhausts
A cigarette
And traces the image
Of the words
Mysteriously
As if reading brail

While back in the room
The wings of a gallivanting blue-bottle
Surreptitiously kiss
Into
A drifting web



Credits
Writer(s): Kevin Nolan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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