THE MADWOMAN OF CORK



Today 
Is the feast day of Saint Anne 
Pray for me 
I am the madwoman of Cork. 

Yesterday 
In Castle street 
I saw two goblins at my feet 
I saw a horse without a head 
Carrying the dead 
To the graveyard 
Near Turner’s Cross. 

I am the madwoman of Cork 
No one talks to me. 

When I walk in the rain 
The children throw stones at me 
Old men persecute me 
And women close their doors. 
When I die 
Believe me 
They’ll set me on fire. 

I am the madwoman of Cork 
I have no sense. 

Sometimes 
With an eagle in my brain 
I can see a train 
Crashing at the station 
If I told people that 
They’d choke me. 
Then where would I be? 

I am the madwoman of Cork 
The people hate me. 

When Canon Murphy died 
I wept on his grave 
That was twenty-five years ago. 
When I saw him just now 
In Dunbar Street 
He had clay in his teeth 
He blest me. 

I am the madwoman of Cork 
The clergy pity me. 

I see death 
In the branches of a tree 
Birth in the feathers of a bird. 
To see a child with one eye 
Or a woman buried in ice 
Is the worst thing 
And cannot be imagined. 

I am the madwoman of Cork 
My mind fills me. 

I should like to be young 
To dress up in silk 
And have nine children 
I’d like to have red lips 
But I’m eighty years old. 
I have nothing 
But a small house with no windows. 

I am the madwoman of Cork 
Go away from me. 

And if I die now 
Don’t touch me. 
I want to sail in a long boat 
From here to Roche’s Point 
And there I will anoint 
The sea 
With oil of alabaster. 

I am the madwoman of Cork 
And today 
Is the feast day of Saint Anne. 
Feed me. 


Patrick Galvin