No

A walk in the park with Lola and a reluctant wean. Lola chased a few balls and disgraced herself as usual by barking at dogs on leads. The wean sat on a bench at the far end of the park and watched proceedings. His gesture here reminds me of a poem by the yet another American poet, Mark Doty. In fact, it's the first poem I recall reading by Doty, in one of those anthologies, The Rattle Bag or Emergency Kit. The poem is simply called 'No.' Here's the opening stanzas:

The children have brought their wood turtle
into the dining hall
because they want us to feel

the power they have
when they hold a house
in their own hands, want us to feel

alien lacquer and the little thrill
that he might, like God, show his face.

You can read the rest of the beautiful short poem here.

Later, there was the opposite, a poetry reading (the second I attended in two days) by three Dedalus poets, including a friend of mine, Enda, in The Teacher's Club in Parnell Square. It's definitely a Big Yes event, for Enda especially, the publication of her New and Selected Poems. She had asked me for a photo for her cover and chose one I had taken quite awhile ago, of our old cat, Sophie, sitting under the hall table (a blip from 2009). It looks good, I think, and Enda is delighted with it.

An enjoyable evening that culminated in a drink with another poet, Michael, in his local on Portobello Bridge, an old, unreconstructed pub that reminded me of what my own local, Boland's in Stillorgan, used to be like.