Never a February 2 without a thought for James Joyce, the day of his birth (in Dublin), the day of the publication of « Ulysses » (in Paris) 40 years later.
Myself, I was too sick today to go to the funeral of a poet/friend/fellow Joycean at Père Lachaise this morning. I took some comfort, though, in relishing from my bed how he might have relished that he was returning to the elements on this second-most Joycean of days (the first being, I suppose, Bloomsday, June 16, 1904).
Farewell, John Kliphan! Poetry lives!
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