When I was a young boy the knickerbocker glory <br />had with it a long spoon to scoop the residue. <br />and later with bacon and cabbage and mashed potato, <br />in Dublin, or on St. Patrick's Day, and color of carrot, <br />I held tight the knife and fork, <br />with Sheffield on its side. <br /> <br />And later growing up at parties and dinners that name <br />was there too on the side. And then <br /> having searched theology and philosophy I looked <br />for residue with a longer spoon and sought Freud and Lacan. <br />From Dublin Port, to Liverpool and then to Sheffield. <br />Western Bank, Red Brick, Firth Court, Octagon, Royal Hallasham, down Glossop Road. Place names of memory and residue. <br /> <br />Now I see the parchment <br />'having fulfilled the requirement prescribed by Ordinances and after <br />due examination was admitted to the degree of Master of Arts in Psychoanalytic Studies'. <br />With Sheffield on the mast.<br /><br />Bernard Kennedy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sheffield-steele/
