Celtic Junction Arts Review
Lament for Dublin’s Moore Street Vendors
Alive – alive oh, alive – alive oh, Singing cockles and mussels, Alive – alive oh! She’s our uncrowned queen of the fishmongers who would have the young men stop and stare for some it’s those moon-white shoulders for others it’s that great mane of hair. But they return to the boss at the office muttering some idle wish, while she dances a curtsey before them as she twists off the head of a fish. But the blind beggars who live by the roadside know the sound of her voice from the many, and they know she’s not cheap with her time and they know she’s not cheap with her pennies. For as she sits telling them an old story of a knight and his lover long past their coin cups brim with the richness of her wise and mindless laugh. She’s the street’s uncrowned queen of the fishmongers who would have all Dubs stop and take heed for some it’s a nod for the memory for others it’s a smile for the need.