James Joyce
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Alive, Alive, Oh!
It’s Leap Day Eve, the penultimate day of February this year. UlyssesJames Joyce –Gob, there’s many a true word spoken in jest. One of those mixed middlings he is. Lying up in the hotel Pisser was telling me once a month with headache like a totty with her courses. Do you know what I’m telling Continue reading
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Buried Beneath the Clay
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManJames Joyce He could not grip the floor with his feet and sat heavily at his desk, opening one of his books at random and poring over it. Every word for him. It was true. God was almighty God could call him now, call him as he Continue reading
Out of Context 