Sinead O’ Connor and Her Coat of a Thousand Bluebirds
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This book is not about Sinead O’ Connor or the gathering impulse of blue birds or the rotten plans of serge-robed men or Aunt Foxy’s potted peppers. Even we, its progenitors, will see this book on a shelf somewhere someday and think: Now we will learn all there is to learn about Sinead O’ Connor and her coat of a thousand bluebirds, having forgotten the way human beings forget the importance of remembering. But Sinead will always remain the ethereal Sinead, and the path to the shorn woman with the songbird’s throat will remain (un)regrettably undetectable.