When I boarded the plane, everyone looked like Uncle Tom
ruddy, some were empurpled
gray hair or auburn in terrier thatches
pale blue of eye
a smidgen of resignation:
the tribe.
I thought We are driving to the interior
I thought holy god
the airline upholstery
was Yeats, Kavanagh and Heaney
handwriting. I thought
holy shit, this is the maw.
The maw.
Source: Poetry (December 2011).
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This poem originally appeared in the December 2011 issue of Poetry magazine
Alice Lyons was born in Paterson, New Jersey and has lived in Ireland since 1998, where she is the Ireland Chair of Poetry bursary. Her poetry film The Polish Language (co-directed with Orla McHardy) is touring film festivals worldwide.
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