Michael Donaghy: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Shibboleth

 

One didn’t know the name of Tarzan’s monkey.

Another couldn’t strip the cellophane

From a G.I.’s pack of cigarettes.

By such minutiae were the infiltrators detected.

 

By the second week of battle

We’d become obsessed with trivia.

At a sentry point, at midnight, in the rain,

An ignorance of baseball could be lethal.

 

The morning of the first snowfall, I was shaving,

Staring into a mirror nailed to a tree,

Intoning the Christian names of the Andrews Sisters.

“Maxine, Laverne, Patty.”

 

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Michael Donaghy was born in the Bronx to Irish immigrant parents. In his thirties, he settled in the UK, where he became a well-known and highly regarded poet. Also an accomplished flute and whistle player, he was an active part of London’s traditional Irish music scene. His sudden death at age 50 was a great loss to both the literary and traditional music communities. Fintan O’Toole’s piece for the Irish Times examines Donaghy’s “elastic identity.” Donaghy’s wife, Maddy Paxman, published a book in 2014 about their life together.  See also The Guardian and the Poetry Foundation for more on Donaghy's life and work. See the Session for information on his life in Irish music. To hear him play, see this clip:

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Comments

[Don Berger]

Love this poem--original images, wonderful sensibility! I really like its precision, not to mention this musician's great sense of line.

And nice video and picture to go with it.

[David Lehman]

I love this poem -- all of it, but especially the last line.

[David Lehman]

"Don't sit under the apple tree with anybody else but me" (as sung by the Andrews Sisters)
brings it back
just as surely as "We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when"
and
"Saturday night is the loneliest night in the week."

[Bob Hershon]

Excellent poem and I'm sorry to discover his work and his death simultaneously. By weird coincidence, the Andrews Sisters appear in a poem I wrote at 4:00 this morning.

[Terence Winch]

Don---Glad you liked it.

[Terence Winch]

Bob---Now you're making me feel like I should write a poem mentioning the Andrews Sisters.

[Howard Bass]

Lovely music and terrific poetry.

[Terence Winch]

David---What about "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy"?

[Maureen]

OMG. Love this poem so much! A depth of layers peeling

[Terence Winch]

Yes--- he was a very talented guy.

[Terence Winch]

Thanks, Maureen. it is a miniature masterpiece.

[Jiwon Choi]

Such a skillful poem—pared down to just the essential core of its meaning.

[Terence Winch]

Yes, and therein lies its power. I do wonder, however,

if "fatal" would have been a better choice than "lethal."

[lally]

feckin brilliant, the poem and the musicianship

[Terence Winch]

I knew you would love it.

[Lawrence Welsh]

This is just what I needed tonight: a great poem and reel. And a fascinating backstory. I'll dig further in. Somehow, it's a perfect prelude to Halloween and Dia de los Muertos. Thanks for turning us on.

[Terence Winch]

Thanks, Lawrence. Donaghy seems to be better known in the UK than here.

[Linda Hickman]

Very nice poem and Martin Mulhaire is dancing somewhere above listening to the playing of his composition The Golden Keyboard.
thank you for sharing this. How did he pass away at such a young age.

[Terence Winch]

Thanks for your comment, my dear. I believe he died suddenly

of an aneurysm.  He was certainly a brilliant man.