you can trace mother's family
to a horde of Celtic savages
one of the last clans to accept a tartan
what her grandfather brought over on the boat
was a brimming sense of justice
in peripheral vision it looked like revenge
but he was good with his hands
whittled his own wooden leg
to replace the one he lost in a gunfight
killed a man with a busted beer bottle
had to leave Texas and take refuge
in Louisiana swamps where he met
a little French girl who calmed his butt down
taught him how to fear the god he thought he was
and accept one his Celtic forefathers thought humorous
he learned to speak French, but had an Irish accent
which he handed down to son, to granddaughter
who gave it to me, the last transplant offshoot
to a horde of Celtic savages
one of the last clans to accept a tartan
what her grandfather brought over on the boat
was a brimming sense of justice
in peripheral vision it looked like revenge
but he was good with his hands
whittled his own wooden leg
to replace the one he lost in a gunfight
killed a man with a busted beer bottle
had to leave Texas and take refuge
in Louisiana swamps where he met
a little French girl who calmed his butt down
taught him how to fear the god he thought he was
and accept one his Celtic forefathers thought humorous
he learned to speak French, but had an Irish accent
which he handed down to son, to granddaughter
who gave it to me, the last transplant offshoot
Last edited: