“Enjoy Your Pint”

Enjoy Your Pint

by Pádraig Ó Tuama

At the bar, 
in an unknown part of Birmingham
I bought two pints
and paid with paper money
from the northern part of Ireland.

That's not British money,
the publican said.
And I said, yes it is,
you'll see the royal head
if you hold it to the light.

And a man standing right beside me
turned to me and looked and said
So you're from Northern Ireland.
He was wearing
denim jeans and a denim jacket, 

tobacco fingers fixed round a half drunk pint.
He locked his eyes on me and
moved so near I could have kissed him,
Whose side are you on, son? he whispered
Whose side are you on? 

And I didn't know the landscape of belonging 
in this part of England.
I hadn't seen signs enough to know

whether his hope flew for 
the orange or the green. 


He continued to look.
He continued to keep close.
And I said
I hope for
peace.

And he said
That's a clever answer,
son. 
That's a very
clever answer.


And I said
I know. 
Enjoy your pint. 
And I
got up to go. 

Peace, dwight