Legends: Celtic Tiger (Second Version)

Where's that Celtic Tiger now, O'Mara?
It is lying down and it's purring, O'Hara,
She's sleeping in the hay.

The ripples in the stream whisper
What the clouds above know--
And it so happens, O'Hara, really,
That I am privy to what they say.

Where has that Celtic Tiger gone,
The one that killed the wee fawn?

Up that hill in Connaught, I believe,
Where I stole this magic stone
From the cairn of old Queen Maeve,
Unseen and alone.
You will see, O'Hara,
That stone will bring no bad luck for me.

Will it hold the papers on your desk,
When death's breeze blows through the window, man?

It will hold the papers to my desk, O'Hara,
And remind me of my doom.


Dom Giovanni
April 22, 2009


Equivalency, a footnote with post-horses:

It's enough to make one laugh and the critic holler:
Everybody's scrambling for the old Yanqui dollar.