A BIGAMIST BASTARD ABUSER

 

My father was a British soldier

Hiding in Belfast away from

The Kray twins, a conman

Working for shady people

 

He became a top I.R.A. man

Done time in the Crumlin Rd

Jail is more like a dungeon

I visited in my mother's hand

 

He couldn’t look me in the eye

Don’t get me wrong I loved him

But truth be told he was a cunt

We hardly ever spoke, a bastard

 

Literally, he didn’t know what

The truth was poetry was a word

He never uttered, skipped bail

To run guns across the border

 

He never knew he ran guns

From hackballscross Patrick

Kavanaghs just a stone's throw

From Mucker, guns and poetry

was a no-go-area-no-man’s land

 

Everyone knew him as big Jim

Sean fox Irvine john or joseph

I don’t even know my real name

I punced the hardman to the ground

and ran away to London

 

My bro’s and sister said he abused them

I have no proof of that do I believe

The word of alcoholics did he ever

Touch me as I lost memory during

Stroke I know he was a bigamist

 

Thirty-one years married to my

Mother knowing he had another

Family, the policeman took off

His hat and said your daughters

 

Have been searching for years

He left the woman to die of

The cancer went off to fight in

another war