O’Malley’s Matins
¶ 1
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O’Malley wakes as ever at 3 am without an alarm,
does his ablutions, mutters prayers for the dead,
the sick. He’ll do the same later. It never hurts
¶ 2
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to give God an extra nudge. In the cecropia tree,
a quetzal calls keow-kowee-keow-k’loo-keow-keloo.
He dunks a teabag in his Sligo Rovers mug, nibbles
¶ 3
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a cracker, adds more notes to his reminiscences
about his father. Remembers Da’s neck muscles;
how his splenius cervicis and nuchal ligament
¶ 4
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supported Da’s great head as he fought Alzheimer’s
like a stallion struggling in green Atlantic breakers.
¶ 5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Christopher T. George
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