Note: An experimental poem I wrote while reading Finnegans Wake around this time last year. Oddly, upon reading it now, it has a different meaning than I had in mind when I wrote it. I take this as a good sign.
Sweet soft Golden
(crowds of people, enormous, gathered together to applaud and celebrate YOU, the individual, the abstract concept, all that glitters, they present you with forty-two, everything that you’ve ever wished for is there because everyone, Vico takes a bow and shakes a plow [odd for him] and takes the time only to point out the circular shape of clocks and the cogs that make them tick, things, so many)
Forty, Go to
(fragments of glass shards, 2, goodly only as those presented us see fit, the lonely Solid Rock upon which is perched the Rowan Oak, sunken sand, worry not my good man the British Royal Navy remains here at your personal disposal, Like Your Cock if You Have One, she is, my mother, is is was, if is is was, if is was is, and Other Stories, all presented by yours truly, in our time [or His], 9, goodly poems, That really is quite a lot, Quite really, Alot)
La la, la la la la.
Softly spoken slipping
(Her another, him, if there were enough in the first cup then there would have been, Do you think the President masturbates?, Who hasn’t?, Q: Which Presidents have masturbated while in the White House?, A: None, if we don’t think about it!, he also stands naked [though that’s been touched on], Head of State minus Head becomes of State, comes head, splits state, is was is, is is is, Don’t Stop thinking, Tomorrow born Yesterday, Trouble everyday Americans, my fellow comrades, rise for the flag salute, no, no, none)
Bright shining bright
Windy, I’m home,
Sitting on the Dock of the Bay,
(So that’s that’s that’s that’s that, eureka, bleeding black pens, what did you hope to accomplish?, What I have is mine for so long but I can’t give it away, I do do, Slipping)