“Camden Street, Harcourt Street, George’s Street, Smock Alley.
No bells from the churches, no urban foxes, no first snowflakes.
Just the boom-boom of a bass, somewhere in the distance.
Rats skittering, across sodden blankets, beds of needles.
On our journey, people laughing, having the craic.
Making the most of their night out, under Christmas lights,
strung high on streets, over strung-out people.
On Grafton Street, a Gucci sign beams over the remnants of humanity.”Enda Kenny on his time with the homeless in the Dáil this afternoon
Kenny gives personal ‘snapshot’ on plight of homeless (RTÉ)
(Sasko Lazarov/Photocall Ireland)
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Kenny, it’s time to go. You can’t appeal to right thinking people, no wait, maybe that’s all you ever have and ever will appeal to.
What the jaysus…
Lyrical gangster
Our greatest living poet!
There are people freezing out there. Get a grip. You’re not teaching primary school Junior Infants now.
A pathetic attempt to appeal to the parents’ committee/electorate.
Definite bang of opportunism about him all right..
What rhymes with stunt?
ladettes
hehehe.. This is great stuff.
I hope he publishes a memoir someday.
It’s so bad, it’s good.
He brings talentless f*ckwit to a new level..
Meltdown?
There’s something really, disturbingly wrong with this.
When your so-called ‘leader’ can spout lines like;
Rats skittering, across sodden blankets, beds of needles.
…and follow that immediately with a line like;
On our journey, people laughing, having the craic.
It just beggars belief.
BUT THEN he finishes it all off with ;
‘On Grafton Street, a Gucci sign beams over the remnants of humanity.’
Our ‘leader…
…not just crap at compassion, crap at poetry too.
Have you read the John Moynes Christmas Collection per chance?
My advice…
They should stop letting him take his Nokia into the jacks with him, ESPECIALLY if he says he’s doing a No.2.
This can’t be allowed to happen again
I hope Gucci sue the insincere, political advisor-dependent* for leaving cert poetry lines, tool.
*how much did that cost us this time?
Moynes furiously works on a second draft:
No church bells, no snowflakes, no foxes,
Just ould lads in wet cardboard boxes
And needles and rats
And wub wub from the flats
And graffiti that says who the pox is.
A few hours with the homeless is not going to educate this Taoiseach about Ireland’s inequality and social problems… He has been in politics for 39 years, he got his daddy’s political seat… he has been privileged all his life- he has no clue and he will never understand what it’s like to be disadvantaged, homeless, unemployed or poor.. If it took him 63 years to open his eyes to Ireland’s homeless, that’s 63 years too late…
He needs to do the decent thing and step down..
Looks like he gave his warm overcoat to some poor deserving homeless person on a cold December day. What a man?
Think he should take some writing lessons from Shatter..that is some woeful prose. Might as well end with ‘and then I woke up, it was all a dream’..
Duff Paddy doesn’t like, etc…
And I thought Russell Brand was a c*ck.
“Do they know it’s Christmas time a tall?”
Appropriate? No, he just borrowed a feeling.
“.. the boom-boom of a bass”. Must have been Bertie. He loves a pint of Bass.
Enda has feelings too, you backstairs.
“Haters gonna hate but I am the T-Shock.
Kickin’ with my peeps, the streets I’m gonna re-rock.
Humming as I’m strutting introducing reagonomics,
My empathy is empty, my words are tragicomic.”