Harold heralded the hounded mouth of Flemish faces, unresisting one idea for another.
Bunches of flowers bunched up in hunches of bananas laid bare by the hare of Haverstrom Circus–elephants included in carnal throstle. Morning nudged at begrudged judges of Bournemouth, and old men tendered their pennies for a roll of the dice. Ignorance to the contrary, the pastries bamboozled pure joints of mutton and sharp fibers of etymology as prim as a pram. Friars of gold and silver, that is. Warrants of opposite kinsmen singularly availed themselves of Woodcock gin, blowing their weekly salaries on austere humors of state, having come from softer climes.
Yellow stockings heralded Ginger’s memories of Harold, but Walloons thought better of it.
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Very eclectic and imaginative love to see you expressing yourself and the spoken words keep going and enjoying the read.
You know this shit does bring out the worst automatic writing in me which is why I enjoy it so much.
😁
I had a comment full of paronomasia and my best guess is the internet ate it🤦♂️
How impressive, reading those lines in your post!
I am deeply moved by the effect of your words. Rick.
Thanks for liking my post, Sparrows. 🙏💐❤️🌺
Dear Rick,
Joyce was one of the most difficult novelist we studied at M A in 1984 in Pune. However we had relatively less complex Portrait prescribed to us.
How studious you are, which is visible in your writing in this post !
Thank you very much for liking my post, Daughters 👍❤️💐🌺
“Hello,
I noticed you liked my recent blog on The Neutral Voice.
Your support means a lot — especially coming from someone building real work in this space.
I’m still finding my voice through political satire and metaphor.
Thank you for noticing. I hope my future work continues to deserve that attention.”
— The Neutral Voice (Ajai Kumar)
Masterful word choice.
Looks like you got lost into the museyroom.
It happens all the time!
same writer, same location, another literary dimension.
Birthday Rememberance of Poor Lucia Joyce, 26 July
10:00 am
https://jamesjoycereadingcircle.com/2020/11/30/gj-canto-xxxiv-p-12-ll-7-12/
Today is the birthday of poor Lucia Joyce (1907) for whose sake her mother is maligned. Perhaps it was her Babbo who lessened her life by discouraging dance, favoring more “respectable” pursuits.
~Don
Thanks, Rick. Happy Sunday.