If Samson had been
a supporting-actor in a BBC police drama
and marooned in Dublin for the weekend,
instead of some biblical hero of the Israelites
famed for wrestling lions
and slaying armies with naught but donkey's jawbones,
maybe he would've consoled himself
over the loss of his seven locks of hair
by ordering a chilli cheese dog and a hot slice of pie
in a themed American diner at the posh end of town.
Maybe they wouldn't have
put his eyes out and placed him in chains?
Maybe I should buy myself a wig?
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