We were born in the poet's eyes
at Liffey-side, the stonebank tide
carving a canal thru city rubble.
We were midnight hanging on the water
mist-thick in the shallows growing dim —
nocturne whispers struck on copper cords —
dreams in the morning calm.
We were Maeve's legions buried standing,
eyes cast to the cloud-cover,
pale-faced warriors streaked with fog —
sunlight thru dusty shambles
sprawling in the street alive.
Dead in the dawnlight we were
the bulletholes and tangled teeth of Easter
blind and blackened,
tortured alleys stained
with memory and sunken souls
fractured by the fault-line.
(27.vi.05; Kilmainham, Co. Dublin)
Matthew Ryan Shelton was born in Minneapolis, MN, of mongrel American parents. Encountering the work of such poets as Lew Welch and Gary Snyder, he became interested in poetry at an early age, reading voraciously a wide range of literature ranging from Charles Bukowski to Jelaluddin Rumi. Among other biographical cliches, he divides his time between Minneapolis and Austin, TX.