On the last bus from Dublin to Limerick
Raindrops pelted the landscape
And held little photos
Of aluminum crutches in each drop
Rolling down the glass.
These were buildings built
On phony loans that bankrupted
The country. Pharmaceuticals
And cheap hospital
Industry styles and ghost estates.
There were only two people on the bus
Plus the driver and a baby
In a cradle shaped like a quiver.
Everywhere I look, my thoughts grow wild.