- Jun 2, 2025
Art by Remi Rousseau
Bloom’s Brother
Bloom has a brother, his kitchen kettle,
“It sat there, dull and squat, its spout stuck out.”
Cast-iron kin, born equal in mettle,
Both hard and hot throughout the day’s long route.
Brethren they are, black clad for death this day.
But poor Paddy Dignam’s surprise demise
Could never hold Bloom’s bold male gaze at bay.
The female he’ll forever fetishize.
Bloom is womanly, Doc Dixon maintained.
But Gerty’s flirty flash his seed did spill.
And still, in Bella’s house his spout sustained.
Ol’ Bloom has no need for little blue pill!
My ‘lectric pot pouts; limp-wired, cold, and wrecked.
Oh heck! Seems my lil’ bro is not erect!
Stay tuned for more slightly revised sonnets.
Same repeated time, same recooked channel.
The following sonnet is the result of poem enlargement procedure. See pre-plumped peewee here. This botch job raises the question: Is bigger better?
Sandycove Sunrise Symbols and Shades
What if the one about the lookingglass
Was only that and lacked its crooked crack?
Would Stephen’s symbol glow in Buck’s black mass?
Nope, that’s more whack than some Hollywood hack.
God’s green is great, but they would make it new.
And what in old sod should this color be?
From a borrowed noserag, Buck blew his new hue:
Snotgreen! Taste it. Could be worse. Could be pee.
About Buck’s razor, why so dull this blade?
No sneezy shade, no figuring fires?
Were all tropes and tints burned in their aubade?
Their cooking’s cold without modifiers.
Old recipes don’t yearn for additives,
Shades do, and new signs burn with adjectives.
Stay tuned for more modified sonnets.
Same symbolful time, same colorful channel.
- May 16, 2025
One Cheat Day
On one honey heated Thursday in June,
Fast we all roam to eat sweets and not yield.
While they call our feast day junk food, jejune,
With their fast zeal, treats remain unrevealed.
We follow Bloom’s plunge through every slow street,
While bedsheets back home throe under the plunder
Of one unsated foe’s stately plump meat,
Who snakes the wife’s pipes like a pro plumber.
Diets command caloric restriction,
But when the heat of one euphoric pair
Cools off, duty demands dereliction.
So, pare down cold fare and dare an affair.
Old Bloom does mix up love with food in one mash.
His wish: fix up a new dish, one down to smash.
Stay tuned for more sugary sonnets.
Same hankering time, same hanky-panky channel.