My dear Sean,
Animal smell in my nostrils,
On my lips, tongue and face, a bright orange Durex
Delicately perched on wasted deodorant cans
And cardboard toilet roll holders
Are the only signs of you in my life but for a vision


I must tell you about now, visited upon me late today
Of you, a Blessed Madonna
(you’d want to be more than the Queen of Pop,
although you’ll never be a virgin again, Sonny Jim!)


Smiling down on top of me, grinding,
Biceps a-bulge, lips puckered.


Hard on for Ireland (Up Kilkenny!), and more,
A picture I would have pinned to my wall,
With a frame for your face, earring and all


Fitting icon for my time on this bitch earth,
Me now, convert and devotee to you
The glittering goddess of this, my life.