The Minister For Poetry Has Decreed

Abstract

That during the Centenary celebrations in memory of our late revolution, poets in each of the twenty six counties from Kerry to Louth will participate in evenings of moderation during which even the moderation will be moderate in the extreme. Participants will arrive dressed in their Confirmation suits, or the kind of blazer one might wear to the funeral of a much indulged uncle, when hoping for a mention in the Will. For poets of the female persuasion Irish tweed trouser suits will be provided. Nothing will be said with which anyone could disagree, or agree with too vehemently. Everyone will stand around pretending to be Seamus, with the best bits subtracted. The poems we require are those that instead of embracing the reader too intimately – the way couples who’ve just met each other at bus-stops in Eyre Square sometimes do – shake your hand limply, as if about to be interviewed for a position as an administrative assistant in an office which specialises in shredding documents for abattoirs all over the Midlands. The Minister for Poetry has decreed.