Its the pub I frequent
The pub where my money is gladly spent
Used to be run by Dolores and Joe
Horsing out the pints wind, rain or snow
I go there with mates or even alone
I go there because it feels like home
The atmosphere is champion
The crowd is bohemian
A venue for poetry, rock, trad and techno
Its the best pub in Tullamore I’ll have you know
I’ll go there forever
This poem is however
A tribute to John
He runs the best pub in town

After you have had a shite,
Do you use your left or right?
Can you fill a septic tank?
Do you have a sneaky wank?
Universal questions that perplex us.
Me, myself, I’m ambidextrous.

Where is our space?
Smaller towns have one to our disgrace
Roscommon has one
Nenagh has one
Even Thurles has one
Birr got a theatre
Tullamore needs an Arts centre
One with a small theatre
They have been talking about one for years
Could host amateur dramatics and professional dramatics
Even the occasional troupe of acrobatics
Movies and documentaries
Its all so elementary
Where is our Arts centre?
A venue for musicals
And all matters theatrical
To plant arts seedlings
To hang pretty paintings
From children’s puppetry
To ambitious poetry
Would it take a petition
To interest the politicians?
And those that sit on the town council
Should we really have to grovel?
When all we want is a space
A space for the Arts

In Tullamore

Give me a fucking bag of chips
Add an inch to my fucking hips
I’m staying here no plans to scatter
Give me the fucking curry batter
Dip in the hot lake of fat
Don’t care if in it you have spat
Give me deep fried
Give me tasty
Give me a bright menu of shit
In case I am hasty

Drift easy
Let the dust settle
Keep your mind fit
And find a kind orbit

Let people in
Tell them how you feel
Enjoy relationships with other people
But keep a little bit for yourself

Didn’t see astronaut
Didn’t see my dreams in the courses sought
Didn’t see Kung-Fu master
Didn’t see the impending career disaster
Didn’t see techno DJ
Didn’t see the doorway to personal doomsday
Didn’t see the to and fro
Didn’t see commando
Didn’t see holding up the bar
Didn’t see rock n roll star
Didn’t see the people I’d meet
Didn’t expect to have had so much sand between my feet
Did see that experience and instinct would help me grow
Didn’t see fuck all on the CAO

Knowledge is a fucking beautiful thing
Knowledge is when and why the birds sing
Knowledge doesn’t weigh anything
Knowledge is the escape from prison
Knowledge is turning off the television
Knowledge is the recognition of the delusion
Knowledge is being not confused amongst much confusion
The most beautiful thing about knowledge that I know
Is that I can add to it
And carry it anywhere I go

The sheep of Inishturk
Are scared stiff of work
If work was in the bed
They would sleep out in the shed
They listen to electro
And a bit of 90’s techno
They laugh at the other island’s sheep
Who graze on vegetation on mountains steep
“Look at those stupid fuckers on Inishmhor!”
They have become humans onshore whore
Giving up lambs and the yearly fleece
While we smoke the herb and live in peace
As for the sheep of Inisheer
Those motherfuckers live in fear
Stupid sheep that suck ass
They don’t even know how to eat grass
We eat in a row and graze uphill

As for the Inishboffin island sheep community
We laugh at them at every opportunity
Assholes don’t even know how to dance
Those fuckers are still listening to Goa trance
But I suppose we are all sheep in the end
Differences are cool and the objective is to blend
Its all about compassion and teamwork
Yours sincerely,