Sly Uses: Having my way with Ulysses

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Sly Uses: Having my way with Ulysses

Sly Uses: Having my way with Ulysses

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yes

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shhh

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peeking into the focus and pecking at thumbnail reveries, pricking up ears to my phono on the ground and picking up airs from th'other over th'ether, 'tis tramsported with grief I am this night sublime, as you may see by my size and my brow that's all forehead, to go forth, frank and hoppy, to the tune the old plow tied off, from our nostorey house, upon this benedictine errand but it is historically the most glorious mission, secret or profund

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by God yes wait yes hold on he was on the cards this morning when I laid out the deck

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There was a story about this traveling salesman whose left wrist began to hurt him, just under his wrist watch. When he removed his watch, blood spurted out. The wound showed the imprints of very tiny teeth.

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I couldnt rest easy till I bolted all the doors and windows to make sure

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an admirer he signed it

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what did i tell him i was engaged for for fun

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not a letter from a living soul

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i wish somebody would write me a love letter

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He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good so be good for goodness sake!

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Ask them whether on reflection they could see anything amusing in all that foul mouthed, foul minded derision and obscenity. To you, possibly it may appeal as art; you are probably (you see I don't know you) a young barbarian beglamoured by the excitements and enthusiasms that art stirs up in passionate material; but to me it is all hideously real.

Penelope | Sly Uses

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shhh

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"Laughter and blows merged inextricably; for however conditioned an onlooker might be to their emotional summersaults, no one could foresee the moment when these two sundered portions of a single being would cease from strife and become one again.

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Which we all like. Rain. When we sleep. Drops. But wait until our sleeping. Drain. Sdops.

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In secret we met - / In silence I grieve / That thy heart could forget, / Thy spirit deceive. / If I should meet thee / After long years, / How should I greet thee? - / With silence and tears.

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In that unbounded moment, I saw millions of delightful and horrible acts; none amazed me so much as the fact that all occupied the same point, without superposition and without transparency. What my eyes saw was simultaneous; what I shall write is successive, because language is successive. Something of it, though, I will capture.

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The imminent is as immutable as rigid yesterday. There is no matter that rates more than a single, silent letter in the eternal and inscrutable writing whose book is time. He who believes he's left his home already has come back.

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Shhh.

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The morning sun reverberated from the bronze sword. There was no longer even a vestige of blood. "Would you believe it, Ariadne?" said, Theseus. "The Minotaur scarcely defended himself."

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In one day of mankind are all the days of time, from that unimaginable first day of time, when a formidable God prearranged the days and the agonies, to that other day when the perpetual river of earthly time flows round to its headwaters, the Eternal, and is extinguished in the present, the future, the past, the passing -- what is now mine.

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I have noticed a thin crack, like a hair, appearing in my wrist, beneath the skin . . . no matter. We all owe death a life.

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(the gravitational pull perceived by certain fixed residents and the capture of uncertain comets chancedrifting through our system suggesting an authenticitatem of his aliquitudinis)

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And death is there in the background, we must run to arrive beforehand and understand it's already unimportant.

Ithaca | Sly Uses

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So much for human fortune. When all is well, a mere shadow can turn it upside down, in the face of calamity, the slightest blow destroys, like a wet sponge blotting out a drawing.

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