For Pat Ingoldsby, one of Ireland’s most idiosyncratic poets.
Pat was looking rather forlorn as I passed him by at lunchtime today.
This poem is working on a few levels.
Firstly, my guilt at not stopping for a chat.
Secondly, sorry that he was having another quiet afternoon, both sales and chit-chat wise.
(Pat is often to be found across from Trinity College in the middle of Dublin).
Also, there’s a veiled reference to Dublin’s increasingly cosmopolitan populace.
And also in the back of my mind, was the lovely debut poem from John Greeves yesterday,
(What’s in a name), about a doppelganger.
Plus, a watching poet, being observed.
The previous night, Didier Drogba impressed in his first Champions League game for Chelsea,
scoring two goals as Chelsea comfortably beat PSG in Paris.