Author of poetry collection Thumbís Width (Manchester: Carcanet
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Limo: You wouldnt want this front-seat in your face / if you were me, if I were you, / so much in-your-face the Manhattan view / is cut-and carved like a crust / about its bulbous sheen. You wouldnt want to guess / how much of life goes over my head / - and yours - flyover by flyover, in thin slices / of distance around the drivers head: / small dreams where you wouldnt / want to live. For if you were he, and I / were you, we wouldnt pause here as he / must, where the pot-bellied bridges reflect / reflections from the road. We would make a fist also / and have it, as the streetsign does, that says, Our Lady of Snows. (In The Irish Times, 23 May 2005 [Weekend]).
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