Who bleached the false-messenger?
Try it. You may mention my name.

When does the sun rise next week?

—Look here. Here they are. A friend of mine sent me.

Why am I so surreal just now?
—We woke this morning at seven o’clock.

What is the true meaning of resurrection?
He toured the wide world with Hengler’s Royal Circus.

What time is it?
—A beautiful language. I mean for singing purposes.

If the brown cow ate black grass what color would his dung be?
—Not as much as a farthing to purchase a night’s lodging.

To whom was the package sent?
—A few broken biscuits were all the result of his investigation.

What name would you never screw?
—The fill the ear of a cow elephant.
What the hell are you doing with your life?
—I seen him shoot two eggs off two bottles at fifty yards over his shoulder.

Who invests in vacation homes and makes lots of cash?
—Sounds are impostures, Stephen said after a pause of some little time, like names.

Why synthesize when you could analyze? 
—My little woman’s down there. She’s waiting for me, I know. For England, home and beauty.

What kind of cake would you die for?
--I seen a crocodile bite a fluke of an anchor same as I chew that quid.

Note: The second line of each couplet is taken from Ulysses ("Eumaeus" section).

Click here to read more writings by the Next Objectivists that were inspired by Ulysses.
Ay, ay or no.  To
think of him, became in due
course.  And so on the
prowl evidently under
the mangle devouring
a mess of eggshells
and charred fish heads and bones on
a par with the mind.

Texts: James Joyce, Eumaeus

A great deal of change out of

the missive which made him
nourish some
suspicions of
our skipper's
bricks disguised.  To
think of him and his gestures
being also clumsy as
it so happened, he had not
but the cream
of the pair of greenish
goggles which he beat a
retreat to
his main view.  To
seek misfortune, weather.

Texts: James Joyce, Eumaeus

But as I chew that quid.  You know I would

to a step in the
passage and we are held up to tally
with the show girl, as he was and
a large crowd had assembled to see the
greatest danger of
the lip: what's bred in the sweeper car or
you might just as well as a born
raconteur if ever there was a bit
like that from the house
will be in on it.  She put the first of
every chorus fluff that off.

Texts:  James Joyce, Eumaeus; Kenneth McGaffey, The Sorrows of a Show Girl

That was
first to
rise from
his hat
at the, for
the young man
he was
then, he had
heard not
so long as
chew that

Texts:  James Joyce, Eumaeus

Still no matter what
you say.  To
which sounded rather
a far cry.
I shouldn't think that
is, and then,
when the husband was
a fact the
weeklies, addicted
to stephen.

Texts: James Joyce, Eumaeus

The husband was a ship.  The sailor said,

in fact.  The sailor.  Seeing that the man
in his affections.  By the name, the name,
the name, the sailor said, in fact.  Across
the world, the sailor.  That's a matter of
a choice concoction labelled coffee on
the matter of a literary cove
in his affections.  So, in it.  Tattoo,
the sacred music of the thing.  Tattoo,
the keeper said, europa point, the end.
A figure of the.  At the lowest, near
the end.  The husband was a jew.  The mind.

Texts: James Joyce, Eumaeus

This Eumaeus Gnoetry was written during the Next Objectivists' "Ulysses" workshop. Click here to find out more about that workshop, and to read more writings created during the workshop. Click here to read more Eumaeus Gnoetry.
brushed up orthodox beverage pump
off the reel hardly a stone
ways and means in the shape
after some soap-sudsy hands
livery stables round the corner
by some fellows a kind of whistle
nothing for it but to foot it by circumstance
as the temperature happened
as the tramway apropos the main entrance 
of the morgue in due course
acting as the vidius palpable and indispensible
sober companion of the ill-famed death-trap
for every contingency the need for an accident-solicitor
cordially disliked to swear upon a hat
and to the health of fast women drunk with
season to us both
led to trouble grating the staff of life
awaiting news from abroad
wholesale waters duly arrived with an axe
surplus steam and good Irish bacon with little account of crime
a bit peeved but never the less an admiral
the coal scene the confidence trick
on the scaffold high snapping at the bone

Note: Gene Tanta wrote this poem during a "Ulysses" edition of a Next Objectivists workshop