the kind racist
catches me and the wife
making a cardinal traveling no-no
pressed against a building
map open wide in the wind
he comes across the street
with his bike helmet and bike
asks us what he already knows
are you lost?
not really but street names in dublin
change on a dime
he says i’ll walk you there
the big kilmainham gaol
where ireland was born
in the puddles of revolutionary blood
we don’t really need him
but oh what a kind old man
and that irish accent that gets you every time
of course he asks about the guns in america
it always comes down to the guns
he hopes donald trump wins the presidency
trump is going to build a wall to keep the mexicans out
the idea makes his irish eyes smile
our little leprechaun guide says it’s the pakis here
and he points out a couple of young arabs kissing
the pakis and the blacks
nigerians littering st. stephen’s blessed green
the darkest person you used
to see around here, he says, was a bloody italian
yes, he hopes trump will win for us kids in the states
he’ll make america great again
maybe ireland too
and the mexicans and the pakis and the blacks
will disappear in a puff of magic smoke
like we and they never happened to each other at all
when we get to the gaol
i try to give him two euro for his trouble
for a pint or to add to his pot of gold
but he waves me off
points to my wife and says
buy the lady a cup of coffee
a true irish gentleman if ever there was one
biking off down south
circular road
and hopefully turning the bend
into the dustbins of history.
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