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Tuesday November 8, 2011

Ronnie McGinn's Poetry Page

If you have a poem you'd like to see published in The Irish Examiner then send it to:

The Poetry Corner
The Irish Examiner USA
1040 Jackson Avenue, Third Floor
Long Island City
NY 11101

or, preferably, you can email it direct to
ronniemcginn@eircom.net.

If possible keep your poem to 20 lines. You may choose any subject you like, in any form you like as long as it's original. We look forward to hearing from you.

Christine McCarthy is a native New Yorker. Her great grandmother came from Cork and arrived with a note pinned to her chest from Ellis Island. She would certainly be very proud of her descendants today, especially her great granddaughter!

Christine is in the middle of writing a grant to the National Science Foundation to make a film and start a website on developments arising from the sequencing of the proteome. The proteome is the entirety of world protein. New cures and technological breakthroughs are occurring daily due to the sequencing of the genome and proteome.

She hopes to create a not-for-profit media company, Watercress Media, that will inform the public about discoveries as they occur.

She likes to write and read poetry in her spare time. It helps her stay grounded and reflective about what is happening in the world of science and society in general.

Also, she hopes to publish a book of poetry called Observances. She has had an interest in poetry since high school and was admitted to Phillips Andover Academy because of her strength in reading English poetry.

A River of People

There is a river of people
in my mind. They drive past
at an enormous clip. Sometimes,
they park beside me and I watch
their dream. I wake up suddenly
heartpounding, sweating from
the spoon that does not fit or
the Queen of Spades in my
grandmother's hand.

My cat is there beside me and
as she walks over my hair
turns on the radio to the
same tune each morning, a horn
riff, her little paw pressing
the button to get a can of Fancy feast,
each day starts again.

I walk to the river as it flows
past and take comfort in
the fleet of taxis, the man with
the turban, the men of color that ferry
us from place to place. I miss him.
a friend, a sunflower, a world away.
The river flows to the sea, he is there too.

© Christine McCarthy

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