Улисс

           Noendsreallybecauseit’sround.Wifeineveryporttheysay.ShehasagoodjobifshemindsittillJohnnycomesmarchinghomeagain.Ifeverhedoes.Smellingthetailendofports.Howcantheylikethesea?Yettheydo.Theanchor’sweighed.Offhesailswithascapularoramedalonhimforluck.Well.Andthetephilimnowhat’sthistheycallitpoorpapa’sfatherhadonhisdoortotouch.ThatbroughtusoutofthelandofEgyptandintothehouseofbondage.Somethinginallthosesuperstitionsbecausewhenyougooutneverknowwhatdangers.Hangingontoaplankorastrideofabeamforgrimlife,lifebeltroundhim,gulpingsaltwater,andthat’sthelastofhisnibstillthesharkscatchholdofhim.Dofishevergetseasick?

           Thenyouhaveabeautifulcalmwithoutacloud,smoothsea,placid,crewandcargoinsmithereens,DavyJones’locker,moonlookingdownsopeaceful.Notmyfault,oldcockalorum.

           AlastlonelycandlewandereduptheskyfromMirusbazaarinsearchoffundsforMercer’shospitalandbroke,drooping,andshedaclusterofvioletbutonewhitestars.Theyfloated,fell:theyfaded.Theshepherd’shour:thehouroffolding:houroftryst.Fromhousetohouse,givinghiseverwelcomedoubleknock,wentthenineo’clockpostman,theglowworm’slampathisbeltgleaminghereandtherethroughthelaurelhedges.AndamongthefiveyoungtreesahoistedlintstocklitthelampatLeahy’sterrace.