Chapter 15: Slurping, Moaning, Slapping, Panting

From the point of view of making a living in Ireland (a point of view I preferred not to adopt, but which was unavoidable as the bills started to become overwhelming) it was easier to be a visual artist than a poet. That hadn’t always been the case. In the – admittedly mythical – past, a poet could be as powerful as a king. There was a poet in the legen…