The New Irish

People sitting perfectly still on Grafton Street, I wonder what the interest can be, I am more at home on Moore Street, the dealers and the people from every nation i can think of, a veritable crucible, and the people are milling, without time for the other, the clock is on fire somehow, and there is danger in the stillness, this is how I see it, no-one wants to stand up to scrutiny, they seek to be away from the moment, but the moment has them imprisoned and it won't let them go. Female African posterias, and East European coldness, whom my friend called 'Ice Maidens' and petite Asians grasping for opportunity, I stand to the side, I am lateral to the movement, and sometimes there are eyes placed on me, and sometimes they ask their questions, and sometimes, I refuse their glance, and Chinese girls with their oriental spread, and today I talked to three people and one was Hungarian, and one was Brazilian, and one was Egyptian. This place has me on edge, I don't know what to expect from it anymore, it seems to have exploded, and the sun shines. And it shines for difference, and it shines for compassion and it shines for the longing of prosperity, and long may it shine.