title

Inspiration

James, James, do wake up,
It's time for our walk,
For I may not be here by Bloomsday,
It's shameful of me,
I know,
But do not disturb Nora,
Let her slumber sweetly,
And later,
Will you kiss me,
And write a better poem?

Happy Birthday James Joyce

ampoule, February Second, TwoThousandEight

"Ravished over her I lay, full lips full open, kissed her mouth. Yum. ... Young life, her lips that gave me pouting. Soft, warm, sticky gumjelly lips. Flowers her eyes were, take me, willing eyes. Pebbles fell. She lay still. ...Screened under ferns she laughed warmfolded. Wildly I lay on her, kissed her; eyes, her lips, her stretched neck, beating, woman's breasts full in her blouse of nun's veiling. ...She kissed me. I was kissed. All yielding she tossed my hair. Kissed, she kissed me. Me. And me now." James Joyce