after Ailbhe Ní Bhriain

To store the ache of plosion, until
a final split sets want in motion
and then, to shelve an expression
of breath, and document instead a theft.

Yes. This process will persist until only
a splintered crevice is left, an absence
in which each utterance is sentenced
to live in the distance, in accordance

with strict lists, a catalogue of elements
acquired, alphabetized, and neatly archived
against their will. To them, the object of each
sentence is indefinite, as is its length,

and yet, the chorus still demands its clipboards,
its disposable pens, its manifold forms, all
its comprehensive interrogations. Soon, a child
will turn to them and pose a series of specific

questions. Who finds a cloud in a puddle
and wants to hold its drop? Who seeks to own
the repercussions of rock? Who discovered
this job? And when will they stop?

Doireann Ní Ghríofa