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Aitche

for Denis O'Connor
Thank you for aitche
—its itch, its ache—
thank you for shifting the posts

and lifting the ships
—Minerva, Clifton, Lancashire Witch—
their wakes, their lists of ghosts:

say Mayo, say Galway
or Dublin, say,
travelling from or travelling to,

the aitchless generations’
aching voices coming through,
their silent aspirations coming true.