Monday, December 6, 2010
Before
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Circe 434
oh little heart
that touched darkness
with glee see yourself
weak and booted
distant laughter as if in the eye of a bird
flying shining through the rainy gap
plain, trembling, bloodied
a mess
the pampered world awaits this wolf
draws from hate
and sees no good
no one never even
follows humming bristles
pigeons ogling boots flapping running
bawdy, touched dead-drunk and shrieking
a mind, a father a dark street glittering
we plunge, headlong
into nothing.
Circe 435
When pleasure's season had certain ears
it was a better haunt of cheats and leaving
when instant dreaming saw its name
it fell with pockets open
smiling, splendid as if with certain eyes
in freezing heat it aged with weather
coatless, bucked and overcome
strapped and walking, false and gleaming
wide, wide secrets
black and loud and newly fallen
Labels:
Circe,
Drawing,
James Joyce,
Sally Mann,
Sketchbook,
Ulysses
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