- Robert Roman
My Own Private Ulysses: ‘Twas the Night Before Bloomsday
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‘Twas the night ‘fore Bloomsday when in a house,
A public house, I sipped Guinness with care,
Wondered why Zoe calls Bloom Tittlemouse,
When a jolly gent flipped through pages there.
“Bloomsday Journal?” I asked, fast as The Flash.
“My verse is inside,” from his droll mouth came,
With a wink gave it like a pageant sash.
His songs’ dear subjects, I recalled by name!
Prancing Buck! Dancing Prof! Gerty, you Vixen!
So, why’d Ulysses cause such a clatter?
Because snug, settled brains, Joyce blitzed in,
And showed love’s the heart of life’s laughing matter.
Now dash off to Dublin, his book’s true site.
Happy Bloomsday! And to all a good flight!
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