if you're (pretending to be) Irish
Before we wear tacky green flashing buttons which say "Kiss me I'm Irish," or wear leftover green Mardi Gras beads with our already overly green outfits, or drink ourselves stupid on Guinness and dyed-green beer (and don't act like you've never done any of these things!); let's first stop and appreciate some lovely poetry from an Irish American poet--at least he could pull off a "Kiss me I'm Irish," flashing button. "Daybreak" On the tidal mud, just before sunset, dozens of starfishes were creeping. It was as though the mud were a sky and enormous, imperfect stars moved across it as slowly as the actual stars cross heaven. All at once they stopped, and, as if they had simply increased their receptivity to gravity, they sank down into the mud, faded down into it and lay still, and by the time pink of sunset broke across them they were as invisible as the true stars at daybreak. --Galway Kinnell Happy St. Patty...
