OUT OF IRELAND
"Di, di, sicuramente, e credi come a dii."
~ Dante's Paradiso: Canto 5
"I am of Ireland, And the Holy Land of Ireland, And Time Runs On."
~W. B. Yeats
I am of Florida
Long and restless
Driven by St. Patrick
Out of Ireland
Far from my Yeats
To the land of pirates.
Come out of the unholy trinity
Of gluttony, avarice and lust
Come for a touch of my caduceus
Time stands still and ever will
Again and again we shall rise alone
Undiscovered by Juan Ponce de Leon.
I am of Florida
Long and restless
Far from my Yeats I sing
Silent songs of Spanish moss
And conquistadores loss
Weeping in oak canopies
To rivers that live underground
Seeping in the limestone
Of my sunken Atlantis.
Come with me to the sandbar
To eat the meat we're made of
With fake mustache and ritual love
Dressed up as Jose Gaspar.
I am the halyards of the dead
Snapping in the fairy winds
Where any man can lose his head
And decay cracks the mast.
I am the sponge diver's hose
Torn by the teeth of friends
And the ghost ships returning
From the unrepentant past.
I am of Florida
Long and restless
Homesick for my Yeats
Longing to cede
To my pirates and missionaries
Time so still it does not measure.
We who are in eternity
Coiled around the banyan trees
Waited in vain for de Leon
To sip our serpent treasure.
Come dance with me
On zephyr hills
Where fairy lilies bloom and whisper
Names of murdered Seminoles
And pines cry of the cowardly kills.
Come call it charity
And dance with me
I hunt for you in endless shoals
To take you down in low water
Between cypress knees that rise
Like stalagmites of the forbidden fountain
Where you will drink in torrid dreams
The ice cold venom of immortality.
I am of Florida
Time is still
Tangled in wet sheets
Abandoned by Sweet Ireland
Cursed by St. Patrick
Far, too far, from Master Yeats.
Come from gluttony, avarice and lust
Come take strong hold of my caduceus
Come with me and see like Tiresias
Blinded and in festival garb to savor my frights
Southern comforts siphoned
On wretched humid nights
We shed sticky sheets like second skins
And drape them in the lynching trees.
A lovely coral necklace for you
Black and red and yellow
A silver king tarpon
To reflect the pink Atlantic dawn
Water moccasins for your tender feet
Opens wide my most seductive yawn.
I am of Florida
Opens wide my cotton mouth
Exiled from Ireland
Far from my Yeats
Enter the rotten history
Of my beloved South.
