Want to read my Bloomsday poem?
[b]June 16 -- In Memory of Bloomsday[/b]
The extravagant vicissitudes of the space-time continuum lead us onward through the depths of Kantian philosophy to the categorical imperatives of existence and foretell the widely disputed theories of Reich and Wilhelm that so radically altered our sense of the tireless soldiers of fortune who led America onward through the downward rush of destiny and beyond when the fortuitous circumstances of fate as envisaged in the ancient books of wisdom enchanted entire generations of mariners traversing the seas while horse traders in Chile escaped with the gold of the Incas and exported their bounty to the Spanish Emperor allowing King Ferdinand to abscond with the holy relics housed in Valencia (or was it Madrid?) where the dolphins slept amongst the tireless widows and orphans left in the wake of the sunken Spanish Armada and lodged their imprint upon the sands of Dover while awaiting reinforcements that would vanquish the English crown and leave old women and young adventurers to wonder how such an egregious twist in the universal flow of fratricidal conflict came to an abrupt halt as if humanity could be entwined in the dark and somber enigmatic symbols of van Gogh and Rembrandt in scores of paintings housed in the Rijksmuseum of Amsterdam while Chinese merchants, trading in silk and jade, conquered the East Asian markets with Arabian horses amid the rosy sunlight that lit the Emperor's kingdom from the heights of the Tibetan highlands where soothsayers and other gloomy misers foretold a kismet that would enliven a mid-summer night's dream and envelope the twilight skies with gloom and a prepossessing sense that the Supreme Court of the United States would recess for the summer never having issued the most important decisions of the term until the last few days of June as mentioned in the Apocalypse through the machinations of the Four Horsemen who judged mankind unworthy of a fine tooth comb and subsequently, censured by schools of dentistry throughout the Commonwealth of Virginia, all the while enlivening the mysterious melodies weaved with such technical virtuosity in the later symphonies of Mozart through Strauss's foray into the realm of dramatic art so stunningly performed in outdoor cafés amid donkeys chafing in the streets of Vienna under the Hapsburg princes who ruled Austria-Hungary until the defeat in World War I led to the abdication of Francis Ferdinand, who, wearing a straw hat, hired a mohel to circumcise the crown prince who would never rule a Democratic Austria or eat kreplach served by Hebrew-speaking waiters from Tel Aviv who in fact couldn't care a wit whether some gossipy goyish potentate ever ate another kosher meal or forbade the immigration of Christian evangelists or Irish novelists to the outer banks and who, nonetheless, were bent on converting the multitudes of Ireland to Irish whiskey cream even if they had never set one foot in McGonigle's Tavern after sundown even allowing for increased tariffs and a hard border for Northern Ireland in the wake of a soft Brexit, which Theresa May and the Tories had promised would never happen in their Government, ultimately proving that a safe haven for the Orthodox Jews of Poland who sought refuge in the Palaces of German-speaking dukes and other rulers of the realm, which was at that very moment dominated by bourgeois sheep herders brought in to entertain Marie Antoinette in the Petit Trianon and later, beyond Paris, in the scandalous Muslim suburbs, Nicolas Sarkozy and his Jewish daughter-in law commenced a multi-volume history of the final five French kings all the while tenors, singing on the stage of the Opéra National de Paris, and financed by Napoleon III, wore dressing gowns intending to imitate and intimidate Swedish princes who had nothing better to do in mid-June than watch the late sunset and commiserate with school boys who had been assigned to read the novels of James Joyce without a Yiddish thesaurus.
The extravagant vicissitudes of the space-time continuum lead us onward through the depths of Kantian philosophy to the categorical imperatives of existence and foretell the widely disputed theories of Reich and Wilhelm that so radically altered our sense of the tireless soldiers of fortune who led America onward through the downward rush of destiny and beyond when the fortuitous circumstances of fate as envisaged in the ancient books of wisdom enchanted entire generations of mariners traversing the seas while horse traders in Chile escaped with the gold of the Incas and exported their bounty to the Spanish Emperor allowing King Ferdinand to abscond with the holy relics housed in Valencia (or was it Madrid?) where the dolphins slept amongst the tireless widows and orphans left in the wake of the sunken Spanish Armada and lodged their imprint upon the sands of Dover while awaiting reinforcements that would vanquish the English crown and leave old women and young adventurers to wonder how such an egregious twist in the universal flow of fratricidal conflict came to an abrupt halt as if humanity could be entwined in the dark and somber enigmatic symbols of van Gogh and Rembrandt in scores of paintings housed in the Rijksmuseum of Amsterdam while Chinese merchants, trading in silk and jade, conquered the East Asian markets with Arabian horses amid the rosy sunlight that lit the Emperor's kingdom from the heights of the Tibetan highlands where soothsayers and other gloomy misers foretold a kismet that would enliven a mid-summer night's dream and envelope the twilight skies with gloom and a prepossessing sense that the Supreme Court of the United States would recess for the summer never having issued the most important decisions of the term until the last few days of June as mentioned in the Apocalypse through the machinations of the Four Horsemen who judged mankind unworthy of a fine tooth comb and subsequently, censured by schools of dentistry throughout the Commonwealth of Virginia, all the while enlivening the mysterious melodies weaved with such technical virtuosity in the later symphonies of Mozart through Strauss's foray into the realm of dramatic art so stunningly performed in outdoor cafés amid donkeys chafing in the streets of Vienna under the Hapsburg princes who ruled Austria-Hungary until the defeat in World War I led to the abdication of Francis Ferdinand, who, wearing a straw hat, hired a mohel to circumcise the crown prince who would never rule a Democratic Austria or eat kreplach served by Hebrew-speaking waiters from Tel Aviv who in fact couldn't care a wit whether some gossipy goyish potentate ever ate another kosher meal or forbade the immigration of Christian evangelists or Irish novelists to the outer banks and who, nonetheless, were bent on converting the multitudes of Ireland to Irish whiskey cream even if they had never set one foot in McGonigle's Tavern after sundown even allowing for increased tariffs and a hard border for Northern Ireland in the wake of a soft Brexit, which Theresa May and the Tories had promised would never happen in their Government, ultimately proving that a safe haven for the Orthodox Jews of Poland who sought refuge in the Palaces of German-speaking dukes and other rulers of the realm, which was at that very moment dominated by bourgeois sheep herders brought in to entertain Marie Antoinette in the Petit Trianon and later, beyond Paris, in the scandalous Muslim suburbs, Nicolas Sarkozy and his Jewish daughter-in law commenced a multi-volume history of the final five French kings all the while tenors, singing on the stage of the Opéra National de Paris, and financed by Napoleon III, wore dressing gowns intending to imitate and intimidate Swedish princes who had nothing better to do in mid-June than watch the late sunset and commiserate with school boys who had been assigned to read the novels of James Joyce without a Yiddish thesaurus.
