Paper and pencil, he says he wants, to leave a note next door. He s Belgian all smiles, blue eyes, whiskey breath. He wants a boat, for sale, next door. Another dreamer smelling the sea. At the base of the building stones, grey and irregular, above them, cut stone laid.
Cement blocks add another story, then there is aluminium and a Plexiglas skylight.
St. Nicholas church built in 1320. Lynch s castle, now Allied Irish Bank. Forty-some people on this bus, a like number on another stopped by an open gate, request for donations posted above a fertiliser bucket. Bones or stones are the focus, but I wonder about that cloth. Slippers, shoes, moccasins who knows what to call them left thousands of years ago in midwestern American caves, knotted fibres from a prairie forb, Rattlesnake Master, flower clusters amid tough yucca-like leaves, too strong to pick.