From the first sentences of Michael Mc Aloran’s book: "longshadowfall", I recognise all the themes that this Irish poet has developed, which were always simultaneously paleophysical, infrasocietal, postland-striatical sojourns of our postneo cataclysmic sociuses. Still this is a progression: after the last, after all is lost, after such metapoetical questioning. Mc Aloran is a rebel and sets forth that great Irish tradition of "furthering the edge". If the "psychoscape" stretch seems bleak: this is what it is. Mc Aloran’s language has evolved along with the scorching, cryogenic catatonia of the social, personal, around us. He has gone all the way. We are not yet unable to laugh, and are intent to move on, even if into uncharted terroir.
