In A Rock Star's Belvedere
Far from the literary high-life
Safe in a quiet hideaway
More or less as the crow flies
Opposite Colwyn Bay
Awaiting conditional pardon
He stayed in the rock star's garden
The screech of a high-flying seagull
The swash of the Irish Sea
The tinkle of cups in the kitchen
As his god-like host made tea
He unpacked a packet of patna
And pondered the length of the fatwa
He set up his lap-top computer
And stared at an unfinished page
Later that night with Zooropa
Bono phoned up from the stage
A housekeeper took him a snack round
To rabid applause in the background
Mornings he strolled on the clifftop
Wrote the odd note to his wife
Workmen constructing a lemon
Many times larger than life
For a world tour in the new year
Watched as the fugitive drew near:
"Jayzus, that face is familiar,"
One of the labourers said
"Isn't he one of those writers?
Him with the price on his head?
Well he might be a literary lion
But I prefer Edna O'Brien."