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Tuesday November 16, 2010

Ronnie McGinn's Poetry Page

If you have a poem you'd like to see published in The Irish Examiner then send it to:

The Poetry Corner
The Irish Examiner USA
1040 Jackson Avenue, Third Floor
Long Island City
NY 11101

or, preferably, you can email it direct to
ronniemcginn@eircom.net.

If possible keep your poem to 20 lines. You may choose any subject you like, in any form you like as long as it's original. We look forward to hearing from you.

Christine McCarthy is a native New Yorker. Her great grandmother came from Cork and arrived with a note pinned to her chest from Ellis Island. She would certainly be very proud of her descendants today, especially her great granddaughter!

Christine is in the middle of writing a grant to the National Science Foundation to make a film and start a website on developments arising from the sequencing of the proteome.

The proteome is the entirety of world protein. New cures and technological breakthroughs are occurring daily due to the sequencing of the genome and proteome.

She hopes to create a not-for-profit media company, Watercress Media, that will inform the public about discoveries as they occur.

She likes to write and read poetry in her spare time. It helps her stay grounded and reflective about what is happening in the world of science and society in general.

Also, she hopes to publish a book of poetry called Observances. She has had an interest in poetry since high school and was admitted to Phillips Andover Academy because of her strength in reading English poetry.

Long Beach

There is one in California.
Also, New Jersey, but today
we're going through Jamaica, Queens, that is -
Old businesses dot a decaying waterfront
then the route turns green and leafy.
At the beach, condos line the boardwalk.
We have one more day playing in the waves.

The surf is bad. Three girls died in the undertow this summer.
Now there are lifeguards and everyone stays close
within the buoys. What draws us there is the primordial attachment
to a sea breeze, a seagulls screeching.
We can't resist the tug of the sea, being covered with sand and burnt, squinting.

My uncle, I thought, retired here, but I am mistaken
looking for his apartment. He retired to another Long Beach, in New Jersey.
Once I swam there too. With a friend we floated

over one huge wave after another. My Uncle Gene
spent fifty years in Long Beach as a fireman, early retired; but we never
swam together. He loved me though, I am sure.

© Christine McCarthy

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