The shop sold tat.
T-shirts with silly slogans
that sucked air from a room
and mugs with Irish names
made in China.
Books that told tales of heroes and kings
manufactured for the tourist trade.
A parade of Hollywood Irish trite tat.
Tom Cruise in plus fours and buckled shoes, a leprechaun begob.
Tara stood proud beyond Maguire’s
but it too had been packaged
for the foreign market.
The Lia Fial moved to the hill of kings
and two Christian crosses on the site
lest the Celtic pagans raise
on Imbolc night
and infest the land with pagan rites
Patrick stood guard over it all,
a Welsh man or a Gaul. Not Irish after all.
The yanks found that hard
what with the green robes
and shamrock and all.
Tara where Irish kings ruled over
the known lands, where grand
gatherings where held every four years
for generations of kings.
Now just a quick layover
on a whistle stop rock and roll hope
around the emerald isle
a facile look at all things green.
A chance to buy
book and cups and magazines
all shipped in from China
for the busy season.
© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com