Welcome to The Weekly Croissant
A flakey, multi-layered, deep dive into music, writing, art, and all the things that make life beautiful through ye ole written word. My croissant to you! Bite in if you’d like. Or, send me a question you’d like discussed. No obligations, just butter.
Sinead O'Connor
was one of us
Grew up in Dublin'sTemple Bar.
Beautiful creative spirit
Now just bones in the yard
Rockstar patron sainthood
Ireland's punk bard Joan of Arc
Called religion out on the carpet
Faithful were enraged
Ripped up their hallowed masthead
On the world stage, unafraid
Screamed Me Too
Ahead of the curve
Unfortunately, message still resonates
Today
There will be another
Ireland grows poets on trees
Her World Party dance cut short
Spiritual disease.
Changes hats, reinfects
Can't see the forest
Through the trees
Gets lonely there in isolation
And we know
Alone can be
Bad company
When dark thoughts come
Pick up the pen
Or the phone
There's always a friend
Before the coup de gras
Performance