Friday, May 31, 2013

Day 32: James Joyce's Liver (and other poems)...

James Joyce’s Liver


Stately plump sloped over like a limp beret fitted on an Irish cross
Bobbing up and down in the anemic rail of his anatomy
An errant buoy in the river liffey
Black as a pint of petrified Guinness
Friable, crumbling specks from a Martello tower
And for some reason
Wearing a derby cap and a set of oval spectacles
Blathering on about literary aesthetics
Much to the chagrin of the nearest
Bodily organs who can’t understand
A single word he is gesticulating in frilly
Prose with noticeable lack of punctuation
The liver that is a bad ass and doesn’t succumb
The liver that would be banned in the united states for obscenity
The liver that jips mass to watch Notre dame football on a Saturday afternoon
The liver that refused to bow and pray on his mother’s death bed
The liver that Prometheus’s eagle had a hard time
Stripping out the concave innards of his pock-riddled flesh
like a bookmark in the middle of Circe
 the scene where a prostitute swarmed Stephen
Is playing Thirds on the piano painfully
Pontificating how everything in life moves towards
one Great goal—in this case, possibly sclerosis therefore of
The liver Bono and Enya used to playing Frisbee golf
in the Southside labyrinth of Dublin
 Shouting out par every time they hit
 An officer from the Irish Republican Army 
The liver that is used as a thesis for students
who would never dare do that to their own liver
The liver that wouldn’t let you shake its hand
At a book signing
Because it just got done
Thinking about Gerty McDowell’s gall bladder
Claiming to have later written a book that is about everyman’s liver
The type of liver that is listed by critics as being the top liver of the past century
The type of liver that prefers to live in exile
 ineluctable and modal and painfully visible 
As it sits there meditating on a shelf
somewhere in a bucolic moss cloaked
quilt of snot green Consciousness
Stowed inside a moo cow cookie jar that looks more like an urn
next to the Gifford and Stanley Gilbert annotations
Waiting for an itinerant Jew
With a bar of soap and unfaithful wife
Who still has a lot of walking yet to do
To mistake it for a pork kidney
and devour it all in one single sitting



...Since the next couple o' days will feature poems mingled with narrative here's a few poetic sprinkles from a few years' back....


also, my alcohol addiction had been completely supersesed by caffeine. Everyday, once a day, give yourself a present. Two cups of hot black coffee....

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