A Short Pastiche o'er James Joyce's Finnegan's Wake

Inspired by Roaratorio : An Irish Circus on Finnegan's Wake by John Cage

'tween Joyce And Cage...

Nurrevir! Halla theur yow bonky twap, mergroy stagga meish, broy-da mergremite lell sippy japp, sleffish baye deaf, neelying asade my porradge. As shordree mast do the crewl theng, the asfoyldahl, samplead my stragg, they fell at the helly grall like autumn pedtals in sammer logfyres. Stell, in destany’s rays of deffy tone, Rollae stood afrash the dreal, shaverring over the deeplong goyal. Masteryies sheds knot whorry everness to tymes of pasticking clocksandcloaks. Thepza taps prodley grue thayl margrath’s weakneas, pyullin’ frad mjoole as thime seas lestermass. Sandamarshed, olapal shens vebore creastlay’m. Dae, nest! Dae, mest! Whoad troell tangeolsvad “Bryfe, bryfe for questill’s mart!” Loza, pry troals amostaoramaythaggy, mesch, trangmack STACK! Flap into eshy’s mystard-bath ,a grapest mard leafs o’er stillseas watersheppard. Dholin’g temhpas masque o’ chances, down bye th’ sleeport Sunderham. Ghoddy’s moxy, thap ‘en troer-spake, mandas camm.

Egles-mate, drank’n m’am, polliports-a-greffaa. Swollowswift maggie, plaffex do bardyplenkshortha, fampas-nicker, dro dokes recco, manowharf. Leamingseeds rhollensbar, daftii white-my-chaggpuf.

- Fladd my steamps, o’er dust, plashall sadie.

Ungunt dalsh a troy gallish, wold sayes rhalling around dancy’s danky pablik hase - Slowalf and Mortmau’s. Bolow ask my sich, standall’s rich all asade Orlando. Lake to sight, vickytrollop, maydae.

Solyy maed damms the pall slo who'll slooce side, asfer me, ell wheavers leav. Snedry's harse stabble stell o' nargle-tame of no grayde effleza, hundry mushelles sine eiple. Than, Solyy and Stell laft undar the especeas of brekened light, sedly darykening skie. Holestan feeld vell uander daryk, musty dealights. Bealers aside graellydocciles lipp daxa meilengarygarain. Elife o' an morningrains, stayned asade a channelcrass o'er so many liffchengers. Tangryplace, tangrylake, nolmo tyame. Tangryfeild, fieldsaid. Meymeries, cerly sadness, voletaste, my graphled kroll, a fayther christin' to bellychurch nevyr cared of we. Colder stoned, black deth's mandrailyark beildawild holesarp gray'n'seas. Saylor, soldger, maigpai and theeif, ell pathed throughe 'e yardefgrayves, standeye o' deth's trackpath along the soapystone barrowloar. Alby stanch eff the killfisher's waife. Skaill the wall o' skolls, marydansoils, feil her soldger's baif, hoenykiss my low, ailehoufe maod a grender's wealkmate. Songlong plaises Moedy's burdflock like moques anderoyle xelle inside the ableten's dreynksmall. Elvenwhole, my amery, my elongmailer.

To a deaper greensod, Orlando barles soe faroffhills, awayhills, quickside paelover, a wondershael worfs o'er thee...

Menycrache, delfish whim'd, aloelf m'dear, groelstaelozzma-holingdaneys...
Uildaela, Eire loess, faetelsod, Trisend, velilahaevendorrs, moella singlyfeys...
Boel seillagaelickfollyshiff, Trillingormell.

O'Hoem a gain.

The grayney freshfields of Tymberson imbued a sleddy cray of nothingly. Hayned through moe sanshane, Trille flew like a vard into they grau skae. More doors ware opan as the jarry-jep’s flued into Drake’s chamminey stark, chillgne like wolftraps acon. Wodney bowals lay sunwarming past the windshills o’er Solders Farth. After they hollyquake spred like dell toastsile, wees yole crixifulls blaked all more lovels. A talescrape o’er daug’s-run-maech. Sledly, aoel-time in yore, chrast, tapell and drumsand.

Lo, autum-mays drie in southers grights, valels yaw to a shad of Tymberson’s may. They lae’d a wrep o’ tables, wichgray so the moondraps in the hollowdark wit, sweath dass in a windy whaed. Alaght upon a rocque, Tille intoaned “May the cloese’s marth?” belike arthey’s achoes to witherwands. “A thym true as my quay-throw grasts a wolftraps acon my ghaths!”

Drake’s maths shrowed a vard in grau weath. Stendred a bollyshiff dens vo quallethmarch in tyme. An hend pass’d twith with Tille, Drake’s yole baethed so to pathe a mor’lend toel. Dunep, flue alake to Wodney’s waesh. Toel a pictcher, nee’s drome, you’d tap a sodoa puell in a peblac haues. Noe’s sanmore ouf froedes manoe if groellipeads nea Hynfor Pond, stilites, juels o’ mershtops, mallowshilfs whespar into a dremey slotyme. Nandes uels of saemdey like grued the cray-quay, aloan thrue a moondrap, sallys the blecknass o’ hollowdark wit. A tray o’ grindmeal awaits a coldfray in the wastes, theck porridgy may-slakes to a waydrained dahn. Spoonfill, a fullmouth dreth hoeth Tille’s taptite. Mainwhash, the River Coeth swalled banklanes asade Solders Farth, smalling the freshfields of Tymberson, harbohr of Hynfor Pond. Thea Pond hith’s the granda sweapthou o’ Solders Farth. You’h heigh, ploash-eme, graeth foed a charry chillgne, maech the quay-throw.

Heavenspawn, whilly hath you’r nobbly countreddles of leapning summerswide! Shapnae slad the mory of mathdew’s wice, ne thice. Orealostath heim creath your nofty reith or toryme stanglow, thruell the quay-throw, ales, paels of the charchsaed bell.

~end~