my irish little demigod swallowed the
polished wooden
bishop because, as
he winked and tossed

upwards a golden coin-

"oh the clergy has done much to deserve that!"

he laughed.
sixteen is young
to be drunk
if you are on the
road and you are
wet from the happy
rain-happy to be rain yes but more
happy to be that
certain rain. the drunken rain-but

had to thank the celtic battle goddess who birthed him
among the rainy rocks
and golden stones

so he said. and did not remember, my little irish demigod
thumbing the knight
and saying "if you would be medb I could show you one
hell of a


ah no.
not that stealing
cattle or tipping over
the kayaks of
missionaries would
appeal to me-

but he clenches in fists of nerve or pure nerve on the piece. gunnar laughs

he is winning. so to
paraphrase why all the Kennedys have been
dealt with or even those married-in

my little irish demigod soundly
trounces a german principality. calls it liechtenstein. and burns the Book of Kells because

"nothing good ever came
of that anyway except
that if you drank enough breaking a heart was
much simpler than solid stone"

and I slapped him.
quite hard.