For Gerty MacDowell, Not Anne Gregory
‘Never shall a gentleman,
Who longs to be your beau
Wooed by your nutbrown tresses
Lit by the sun’s last glow,
Love your fair, unsullied soul,
And not your seaside peep show.’
‘But I wore nainsook knickers.
And hid my down-below
With lucky blue undies,
So that any Romeo
May love my fair, unsullied soul,
And not some seaside peep show.’
‘I read a wild Irishman
Whose books cause vertigo,
His Ulysses forever proves
That even Bloom, full of woe,
Loved not your fair, unsullied soul,
But only your seaside peep show.’
Updated: Mar 17, 2025
Art by Robert Berry
The Modernist Mind of Leopold Bloom
We can indeed know his Modernist mind
With thoughts aswirl like the sea, while his words
Aloud are placid, polite, far too kind,
Masking might like heroes disguised as nerds.
Meanwhile, his eye caresses every curve,
Hip, and thigh. His cravings can be spicy.
Dublin’s his dish, everything’s his hors d'oeuvre,
His heart’s warm, but his urges are dicey.
Meanwhile, Bloom is always misunderstood,
Treated as a stranger in his own home.
But his secret life: ugly, bad, and good
Spills across the pages of Joyce’s tome.
Within Bloom’s mind, you will find yourself.
Change your life, pull Ulysses off the shelf.
Stay tuned for more Rilke-ripped sonnets
Same torso time, same archaic channel.
Wandering Through Used Books
Merchants’ Arch has a bookshop down below:
Lenehan links M’Coy by the elbow
After he calls old Bloom, Leopoldo.
Stephen Dedalus, too, is on the go
Past faded prints in Clohissey’s window.
Then halts at a bookcart on Bedford Row,
Recalls himself Stephano Dedalo,
Pawned school prizes: alumno optimo
Tattered pages of memory’s echo.
“How to win a woman’s love,” reads Stephano.
Say the following thrice, “Se el yilo
Nebrakada femininum! Amor me solo!”
Yo, Jimbo, so what is the dillio?
Do used books bestow an ultimate O?
Or do you simply prefer Italiano?
Va bene, Giacomo. Buongiorno!