Reverse Emigration

When I boarded the plane, everyone looked like Uncle Tom ruddy, some were empurpled gray hair or auburn in terrier thatches pale blue of eye a smidgen of resignation: the tribe. I thought We are driving to the interior I thought holy god the airline upholstery was Yeats, Kavanagh and Heaney handwriting. I thought holy shit, this is the maw. The maw.