Having my way with Ulysses

Come forth, Lazarus! And he came fifth and lost the job.

Soft and safe be the earthly bed of our brother; bright and glorious be his rising from it. Fragrant be the acacia sprig which shall flourish there. May the earliest buds of spring unfold their beauties over his resting place, and in the bright morning of the world's resurrection, may his soul spring into newness of life and expand into immortal beauty in realms beyond the skys.11:36 am

After the funeral Tom Kernan hovered near me.  Both converts.  In the same boat in other ways too.  Treacherous to be the only ones.  Our ill-kept secret.  Is he a mason?  They have better funerals.  I wanted him to speak to me and he said: I ah uh weoowection ah uh wife — youcheg a man imok heaw.  Well damn that to hell.  Once you are dead you are dead.  The resurrection and the life; the last day idea.  There’s a rabbit hole for you, hard to come forth from that one.  Get up!  Last day!  Rise and shine.  Then all of the dearly returned digging around for livers and kidneys and inmost hearts.  Find damn all of yourself in the morning.  Left my heart behind.  No hearts in there these days.  Removed first.  Broken out, then sewn up.  How many broken hearts buried with Paddy Dignam?  None.  Inmost heart.  Kernan’s maybe, but Paddy’s?  No touching that.  Touched Simon’s, he broke down when we were near Mary’s grave.  Simon said she’s in heaven if there is a heaven.  But she’s better where she is.

Which end is his head?

And they poured em behoiled on the fire. Scaald!11:30 am

I asked if Paddy was insured and he was, but his policy was heavily mortgaged.  Martin Cunningham is getting up a collection for the boy, Ned Lambert trying to do something too.  Great blow to his wife.  She has the laugh now. No more of his bullshit, his parenting, his secrets, his drugs, his crack whores, his attacks on her peace, her mind, her normalcy, her justice, her safety, her money, her forward, her backward.  She got burned.  She got so burned.  It was a damn bad hand she got dealt and what’s worse, in her universe time cleaves here.  Everything will be about before it happened and after it all went down.  And her boy.  God only knows what.  There’s no.  I just.  Oh god that sweet boy.  Not yet.  I can’t say it yet.  But she might marry again.  Me?  No.  Him?  And Molly marry again?  No.  Him?  Yet who knows.  And then.  And then.  Somebody has to go first, underground.  Lie no more in her warm bed.  Here’s a cold one for you.  I hope you’ll soon follow.  Well, he is more dead for her than for me.  Condole with her.  Your terrible loss.  Nobody to haggle with over the boy.  My day, your day, you are late, he needs this, drop him off when.  And then ineffably worse, what will this do?  Oh that sweet boy.  What does he understand?  How much of this is he taking on?  When we look at this kid down the road, what will be naked for all to see and then incomprehensible, what will he show only when he trusts, when he is most naked?  He was there with his father dead.  Three days alone.  Both unconscious.  Then wake up Daddy.  Wake up.  Nothing.  Nothing for three days.  But not nothing.  I can’t.  For three days bodies don’t do nothing, they do plenty.  And the boy too little to know what to do.  Please wake up Daddy.  Here, I’ll open your eyes for you.  Daddy?  Did Paddy know?  Did he lighten at the last moment?  Did he recognize all he might have done?  Could he see?  And all for a shadow of nothing.  Stop.

Fast fading on the frayed breaking

Soft politeness11:06 am

Dignam’s funeral just when.  Caught off guard on the way.  At just that moment, I was thinking.  I was thinking and then right there, the worst man.  A type like that.  What do she they see?  I just looked at my hands, thinking alone.  Soft politeness.  Didn’t want to show.  I thought Molly her skirt stuck between her cheeks.  Yes.  That helps even now.  Power asked about her concert tour.  I’m not going.  I would like to and I wouldn’t like to.  Would miss poor Papa’s deathday; a year now he’s been oot.  Many happy returns.

Who’s getting it up?

Queen was in her bedroom eating bread and.10:07 am

Molly on her bed with her cards, laying them out in two rows, the queen of spades and knight of diamonds set aside.  Cat in the middle of it.  Queen of spades, the widow.  A young widow.  Poor Dignam.  Or the divorced woman.  Which option?  Or the bad woman with ill will.  Or the dark woman familiar with sorrow.  And with the knight of diamonds.  A knave.  A brave unemployed man.  A young stranger.  A scholar.  A jealous person.  A useful man.  Who?  Planning her concert.  Her phone face down on the bed.  Texting.  Singing some sweet old song.  McCoy says his wife singing too.  Believe when I see.  Don’t want to hear, no guts in it.  Screechy woman.  Freckled.  Cheeseparing nose.   You and me in the same boat he says, flattering me.  Irritating.  Your wife, my wife.  Wonder is he pimping after me?  Maybe a little softswapping?  I wouldn’t think Molly his type.  Maybe he means me?  Still in the closet I thought. 


10:05 am

McCoy on phone from Conways.  Bob Doran is on one of his benders.  Starting early.  I’m watching a woman outside packing up her car.  Skirt.  Windy.  Tpying too.  Multitasking.  Had to pick up phone.  Can’t keep blowing him off.  Still, hhate to be interrupted when.  Ggust!  Nice.  Sheesh the guy can talk.  Doesn’t need much of an answer besides yes.  yes.  um hhum.  He’s a nice guy, McCoy.  Ttries too hard though.  Insufferable for that.  Borrows stuff and doesn’t return.  Will be asking for a suitcase for his wife’s imaginary out of town gig.   Bantam Lyons there too.  At Conways.  Doran used to be a serious guy.  Qquiet.  Changed once he saddled himself to his mother-in-law.  Nno blame there.  Hold on.  Standing in car door to reach luggage rack.  Stretch.  Yyes.  I see pretty clearly today.  Rich: expensive.  They’re all the same once you touch the right sspot.  McCoy heard about Paddy Dignam.  Tterrible death.   Sees me looking.  Always an eye out.  Good to have backup.  Hello.  Dropped something.  Watch!  Watch!  Sshit!  Truck went by.  Right at that moment.  Another gone.  Ddamn McCo

Did you finish it?

Tell me, I am all eyes. 9:06 am

I remember that trapeze artist who fell at Teatro Zinzanni.  I had to look away, difficult to do in that place.  Everybody stopped.  Everything stopped.  Time stopped as they say, although in that case it would have to have started and all my evidence says something else.  One of the preformers was wandering around the tables offering people tastes of ice soup for a laugh and when it happened she was staring directly into my eyes bent over the table lifting my spoon toward me.  Dark liner.  Glitter lids.  Only the music kept going, a jazzy soundtrack to horrible pain.  She never looked away.  We locked.  I still see those eyes.  And I heard what she didn’t say.  I looked away.  I had to look away.  The staff played it cool, professionals, and had people laughing and eating again fast.  Tough job that.  Break your neck so we break our sides.  Breaks my heart.  Start them off young I imagine so they metempsychosis.  The soul of a trapeze artist in the body of a what?  Our souls after we die.  After before, no difference.  When is Dignam’s soul?