Here we are on famed Moore Street
in close touch with market beat,
in the air and beneath our feet,
defending heritage and history
knowing that it’s no mystery —
no accident or just a mistake —
why they want our history to take
to offer on the altar of the speculator,
Gombeen and foreign vulture taker.
A people without history is easier to rule
without that memory, easier to fool;
without a past, having no future
our masters hope we’ll be safely neutered
to be consumers dumbly tutored.
But history trembles beneath our feet
here we hear it and also feel it
we speak to the foolish and the wise
denouncing speculators and their allies
refuting Government Minister lies
our voice joining street traders’ cries.
Lemons and leeks here for selling
History stories here for telling
You never know who you’ll be meeting
Old friend or new to be greeting.
This whole area was a battleground;
it is again, the speculators found:
through city streets protests wound,
people stood and linked arms around,
occupied also against demolition,
blockaded five weeks of attrition;
and here on Saturday some of us meet
to set up our table on the street
a part of the Saturday market beat
in dry or wet or sun or sleet.
Diarmuid Breatnach, Feabhra 2017.