“The Belfast Pogrom: Some Observations,” a Poem by Paul Muldoon


“The Belfast Pogrom: Some Observations”

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The shipyard workers are no lighter on their feet
than the linen workers who flock
to Ross’s Mill on Odessa Street

to wrangle a bedsheet
out of sullen flax.
The shipyard workers are no lighter on their feet

than this newly launched ship of the fleet
laying about it with its fluke.
The linen workers on Odessa Street

look to his nosebag for the mummy wheat
that may raise a horse-king from his cart-catafalque.
The shipyard workers are no lighter on their feet

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than when they greet
the Catholics among them with a wrist-flick
of nuts and bolts. In Ross’s Mill on Odessa Street

the tradition of drinking whiskey neat
extends to the recent influx
of shipyard workers never lighter on their feet

than when they’re driven back by the heat
from a house they’ve torched. The black snowflakes
that settle on the linen workers of Odessa Street

summon quite bittersweet
memories of a Catholic boy recently flogged
by the shipyard workers no lighter on their feet

than the parakeet
on his shoulder. The boy’s back striped like the flag
flying over Ross’s Mill on Odessa Street.

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When it comes to beating a retreat
through a mass of blood and brain-flecks
the shipyard workers are no lighter on their feet
than the linen workers of Odessa Street.

______________________________

Excerpted from Joy in Service on Rue Tagore by Paul Muldoon. Published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Copyright © 2024 by Paul Muldoon. All rights reserved.

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