Re Joyce (James) O happy days Ireland does re joyce   A gnol a devol a nur reviv   Upfinnegan w/ (s)laughter   He hung up   St Jimmy O’Sinner of Dublin,   O fella no Bloom-  Ing flower, petals crushed   In Molly’s coddled bed   His ruptfirm godlike (Ya, H C E)  Twicer he hollowed onaphone   Linguefiction’s penman is Shaun to a quill,   Sing T, even stephen   She Anna runs along the river lippy yes now   Here she comes here comes   everybody  Now   Is yes

Before the Clocks Struck Three (Mr. Eliot Had an Apparition in Salford and It Was Very Foggy)   Salford is the rainiest place, getting   Inside my shoes, wetting   Tired feet in undarned socks.     Yesterday, before the clocks   Struck three, three old horses   Munched wet grass   Among the relics   Of Clifton’s Wet Earth Colliery:   Which on reflection,   Were beautiful objects   Of rust, time and toil.     Fog swirls, curls   Around the clock tower,   The quays, the trees —