Image by Elzbieta Lempp

Belfast Confetti

Belfast Confetti

Suddenly as the riot squad moved in, it was raining exclamation
marks,
Nuts, bolts, nails, car-keys. A fount of broken type. And the
explosion

Itself - an asterisk on the map. This hyphenated line, a burst of
rapid fire...
I was trying to complete a sentence in my head, but it kept
stuttering.
All the alleyways and side-streets blocked with stops and colons.

I know this labyrinth so well - Balaclava, Raglan, Inkerman,
Odessa Street -
Why can't I escape? Every move is punctuated. Crimea Street.
Dead end again.
A Saracen, Kremlin-2 mesh. Makrolon face-shields. Walkie-
talkies. What is
My name? Where am I coming from? Where am I going? A
fusillade of question-marks.


from The Irish for No (Gallery Press/Wake Forest University Press, 1987), copyright © Ciaran Carson 1987, used by permission of the author and publishers

Books by Ciaran Carson