w/dog

:
POET,

poems composed of words,

phrases, fragments taken from Joyce’s ULYSSES by postmodern

__________Raymond Farr_____

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2007

a publication of

the familiar self publishing press

A NOTE ON THE WRITING OF THESE POEMS: As a rule I have quoted words & phrases, fragments& lines exactly as they appear in James Joyce’s epic novel, ULYSSES. My method was determined completely by random chance. Scanning backwards & forwards in the text, running my finger down a page until a word or line “popped out” at me, I would jot (almost like automatic “copying” or automatic writing) until many pages were filled with fragments of “ideas” & “language” that I would later “edit” (in the strictest sense of editing). In doing so I have not inserted my own “original” lines but have solely attempted to produce (out of the chaos of ULYSSES’s multiple jargons, vernaculars, & slang) a new work. One that maintains Joyce’s “sound” & “style” while simultaneously per mutating the language found there into a contemporary work, distinct & recognizable as “new” & “original.”

© 2007 by Raymond Farr

To be unusual, original, or new, is thought to be, somehow, important. It is thought, indeed, that to be otherwise is to be repetitive, or banal in thought; to be old and usual. It is implied then that one plagiarizes the past. --Lyn Hejinian

IX

Patience, Golden ship. Tall in affliction. A headland winding round unhearing musical touched dancing days are done. To wind love speeding sail return. Now what note? [Her high long snore.] [Beard / huge face.] Gold glowering light. Like one together. my

VIII

I

[in box]. Do right to hide.

Tempting fruit, ice cones. Guarding as ever mysterious Embrace— “Give us the paw, doggey!”

Them rolled to quivery loveshivery roofpanes.

*** Mangy ravenous brute Near ate the tin. “Wait till I catch you, li'l plucks!"

II

VII

Quadruped proscenium should by canon doubly lain. Would by would would cast him out. Cityful passing. Cityful this owner no man art could save.

In pity for croppy. Jutting over polished. Women thrilled w/ horse-rude fury— Real liquid of womb. Tiny tiny lashes calmly hearing.

[her lips in pray er][his fuel slow eyes] & Little mo [if prudently he was] enjoyed it wagger.

Enamel baton. Protruding ballad. Fit as fiddles on smooth beerpull.

Round him I had to ever woo-codlings of herrings drafts of eels.

III VI

Quietly, the mourners— “His sleep is not natural. Which end is head? Which shilling of featherskins & junglemeat?” The death chamber darkened, improvising hoarsely sweetly rising to her throat— the mirror up to nature.

--& singing most lovely! garters blue] the seagems [the

w/ all his: “Ruffin, cly the nab!” Swelling quick[thou chuff] [thou puny].

Indeed the name the herit. & &

drenched! lean!

His brasses jingling. Exterior whose name his load of papers.

IV

V

Bound gallantbuttocked mare! vacantmind accusedcouldspeak Were there schemes of wider scope? acting the stops the sundial towards— “Him make velly muchee fine night.” [Heard as a boy: certain black crack of noise— his earthquake hats whose name so haught uplift]

My epitaph be kraaaaaaa. Nor Poet nor tankards. Lost words built of breeze. Near bronze. Charge me for the edge he gave.