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 whilst yet alive

and in this place

where triumph and pretention are ripped bare

and fame and fancy torn to dust

yeats and shakespear

dog the heels of one such

ciaran smith

vying for his favour

pleading his attention

he in turn

is kind to them