Mercury Couriers

In sad memory of a young motorcycle courier, killed in a traffic accident at St. John's Road West in Ballyfermot, Dublin, November, 1998.

They've never heard of him, or if they have
it's only in connection with the planet --
His winged foot was never theirs till now
his legend spreads across their leather satchels:
Mercury, fresh-faced messenger of Jove.

Speed this morning through a city's streets,
couriers, your wheels dividing gravel,
spitting stone behind your plastic glass
and polished bars and silverchromed exhausts
until the urban engine stalls at noon.

A corner of Fitzwilliam Square and lines
of parked expensive cars, and motor cycles
leaning close together, never touching,
leaning in the shade and someone laughs
and cards are dealt and money changes hands --

They've never heard of him, or if they have
it's only in connection with the measure
of thermometers -- their ignorance
could never image out that lithesome boy
who pierced the Grecian skies for Jupiter.

Fitzwilliam Square at noon and office staff
eat sandwiches, and managers eat out
and charge it. On a corner, metal stallions
stand in silence, cards are dealt and money
placed and someone turns the Ace of Spades.

^

Biography

Eamonn Lynskey's poetry has appeared widely in various magazines. His first collection was published by Lapwing in 1998. He is a teacher and lives in Lucan, Dublin.