James Joyce's Araby

James Joyce's Araby

I doubt there are book logs that commence with a note directing a

reader, specifically you, even though I get the impression from Mr.

Little to whom riding between pairs of glasses suggesting that in

order to gather a bounty against my beloved head I must be obliged to

fathoming on how to receive topic sentences with cradling arms and

craters of dimples (have to love formalities, even of those lolling

head-stumps, after all, it keeps NATO all trite and content with tying

bow ties as a substitute for tying "no comments" with the press, or if

there are annotations, they habitually orbit around: NATO headquarters

dinner order for "take out the Chinese" was grossly misunderstood).

Nevertheless, off it goes: this specific book log was completed in a

week's time past upon that of receiving an anthology of Joyce's works,

and thus focuses on a signature piece that I would be akin to

exhausting minus any previous impressions received from Joyce's

complementary works as that of the portrait. The following is a hub of

focus for a sole work that I first put my eyes on, one I inherently

had the benefit of, and then again, a reassurance that Mr. Singh did

not instigate a recall of Joyce's added works; they merely came after.

And for all the rock we taste as Mother Earth, the preceding just came

out as a declaration of copyrights as a liability against litigation

funds (a perfectly fit moment to mutter a: my bad).

Canadian navigator busy extolling virtues of Celine Dion. The foremost

most moments of virtue. Yvannah Persuad. A pixie-like face. Stern.

Brown eyes clouding with concern. A sharp detour in the upper folds of

jaws...

... middle of paper ...

...lewd

At least, not ever in the nude

These things to which I have confessed

They do not count, if we stayed dressed

It never happened with a cigar

I never dated Mrs. Starr

I did not know this little sin

Would be retold on CNN

I broke some rules my Mama taught me

I tried to hide, but now you've caught me

But I implore, I do beseech

Do not condemn, do not impeach

I might have got a little tail

But never, never did I inhale.

(and now I implore you Mr. Kevin, to throw your ante against who this

worshipper of NATO truly is, and oh yes, I did include topic

sentences-I even bolded them for you, lol, and this time, in horror of

getting my head chopped off, I attempted two manner in which to

errr…express…myself, one being that of a snap-shot photo shoot, and

the other of a constant stream)