for Shane Macgowan
Do you remember
you took me to the small
town of your joy and
we sat in someone’s kitchen
drinking
while a banjo and a bodhrán
and the bosca ceol
spoke the words for us
and we watched unwashed
dancing bodies
spin and swagger on
the pocked concrete of the floor
and caught the fumes
of sweat and waiting
you gave me a nudge
that said, ‘yer wan in the corner’
I don’t know was it Maureen
or Lil or Eileen
she was smoking a fag
and she had the itch
of a man about her
we shared a smile
we’ll bide our time
it isn’t writ yet
our little sacrifice to conspiracy
and was it three tunes
later we saw her
getting off with an apprentice block-layer
a fella from somewhere
down near ’Corick
you gave a shrug
and after midnight
when they called on you
I will confess
I felt a shiver
in the cauldron of your voice
as you sang of sadder times
Unwashed © 2025 Fergus Deffely
