valhalla

a feasting hall of the dead
the place is thronged
with anonymous provincial poets
the walls ring with their songs
and far down sit the few
who won great fame whilest yet alive

and in this place
where triumph and pretention are ripped bare
and fame and fancy torn to dust
yeats and shakespeare
dog the heels of one such
ciaran smith
pleading for his attention
vying for his favour
he in turn
is kind to them