We Don't Have Cucks In Ireland

We don’t have cucks in Ireland

It’s the tourists that wear the green hats

As it is, words fight for a place here

In the noisy desperation hall

Where language seeks justice

Who knows where the home is

I saw them stripping down last week and jumping in

To each other, one by one

You’d think it was their first time

How things have changed

Hard men with their kits off

Don’t usually lie to themselves

Or their teammates

There was some relief in being cold naked truth

Before the laws got game

Once language set us free

Now we’re just punctuation, trapped

Lost in a crowded text

And where seats are sticky if you get one

Since dictionaries died, we’ve been learning from the labels

On each other, knowledge wears thin grey vestures

Begging for asylum on the edges of town

Let them in, some cry

No, from a single multiplied voice

I saw one attacked by officials

A crack on the side of the head and blood

Oh, how misunderstood our age

Of all words denied

We don’t have snowflakes in Ireland anymore

But snow falls fierce when it does

They’re more than welcome back if they come

As it is, words continue the fight for justice

And green hats are given out for free