Where Are the Warriors? Ireland’s Crisis of Feminine Conformism
“Ireland is really a collection of secret societies. For a rootless young man like myself, this had a strong allure.”
Poetry: ‘My Mother Tongue’ by Maisie McAllister
My Irish isn’t clean, my grammar doesn’t gleam
In this soft light, but I still like
It’s punctuality, musicality, the spirituality with which we once spoke
My mother’s tongue was cut from my throat