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Paul Francis Mc Cann

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Member Since: Before 2003

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The Spinner
by Paul Francis Mc Cann
Monday, November 17, 2003

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Like for years it took to happen and so the words hit hard,
Like a bag of lead on a window pane .

His words like an escape hatch leapt outside a window on a rooftop
where I can see time again .

Jack turned on the muse like a water tap flowing on a rooftop where inspirations had been thrown .

Then he laid down some tracks on his new cd,
like passengers on a late night freight train coming home .

The spinner spoke about ,
Crumlin Road Gaol and the Mater hospital .
It will always stay the same .

I heard him walking up on a rooftop where the echoes fell like rain .
And Jack felt the Tinkers pain .

Jack met Nancy by the light as cigarsmoke wafted into the moonlit night in Dublin City .

The wind blew past as the Spinner spoke of the working class in Belfast where dirty work was pretty .

Passengers on another line rattled past screaming out like tailgate gunners on a milk float there.

But cowboys without cows can never lead a horse to drink the milk,
no matter what water lies there .

Like Sailors on the drink too ashamed to sail the drunken sea .
As they tell the horrors go away .

By the way everything is all right Jack and I promised myself to tell you that its ok .

By PaulMcCann

Poetry Echoes
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Reviewed by Trixie Love 11/17/2003
Hi Paul,
Wonderful write as always.


Trixie :)
Reviewed by Leland Waldrip 11/17/2003
Both imaginitive and obscure. Very poetic write, Paul.
Best regards,
Reviewed by Katy Walsvik 11/17/2003
My God, Paul.. this is atmospheric and I certainly left my chair, pulled in and very involved with your images.. but I'm confused.. please tell me he didn't jump! God, don't let that be what I missed here. The piece is desolate and magnificent in its poetry. katy xox.
Reviewed by Sandie Angel 11/17/2003
An interesting read.

Sandie Angel a.k.a. May Lu :o)
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