ERASURE, THE LOTUS EATERS, ULYSSES*
BY LORRIES ALONG SIR JOHN ROGERSON'S
QUAY
past Nichols' the undertaker's.
Eleven, daresay.
Sent his right hand with slow grace
over his hair:
Where was the chap I saw in that
picture somewhere?
Ah, in the dead sea, floating on his
back;
It's a law like that. Curriculum.
Crack.
It's the force of gravity of the
earth is the weight.
Per second, per second. Post office.
Too late.
Eleven, is it? I only heard it last
night.
What's wrong with him? Dead. And, he
filled up, all right.
Chloroform. Laudanum. Sleeping
draughts. Phlegm.
Better leave him the paper and get
shut of him.
*Lines in this found poem are taken
in order between erasures from “The Lotus Eaters” episode of Ulysses by James Joyce.
