Jake Crane, Creole Sue,
Dove Campbell, the diffusion
of daybreak, down, for

instance there was nothing for
you. Prove that gospel. O well

connected. The joy,
the feel of her lord that she
used to overhear.

She used to say a
word of it out of plumb. From
me, he says? At a

wake when the torrid and the
nun of that I am here to

read a name?  Were there
obverse meditations of
possibility.

People looking up
at the exertion of the
spine. Better get this

job over quick.  In the dark
chords. Her grave is over here:

the world. Here, sir: the
slow music. You see most of
the dark land they heard.

Is there any... no
trouble I expect. Mr.
Bloom promptly did as

suggested and removed the
saucepan to the blessed: looked at

his feet. Heart to kneel.
His first puff violently
towards the tombstones.

O, the eloquent
fact remained that morning. Then
he murmured then with

force like men. All these rocks with
lines and scars and letters. From

his rank and fame that
tempted thee, and in the past
day, the ghosts of him.

*
A series of renga created with Gnoetry0.2's statistical analysis of Ulysses, as facilitated by end-user Eric Elshtain.

 


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