Reverse Emigration

When I boarded the plane, everyone looked like Uncle Tom

ruddy, some were empurpled

gray hair or auburn in terrier thatches

pale blue of eye

a smidgen of resignation:

the tribe.

I thought We are driving to the interior

I thought holy god

the airline upholstery

was Yeats, Kavanagh and Heaney

handwriting. I thought

holy shit, this is the maw.

The maw.