"Cuck-cuck-cuckoo" cucked Cuck Mulligan
Mr Holloway begins to contemplate the absurdity of the statement,
A petit rebellion surges from within,
"Cobblers" he ejects from his curled lips,
A swell of enjoyment abounds and Mr Holloway stands to attention,
Two Totem poles carved out of fine oak stretch from the town square into the magenta sky, Etched into the surface images of Shakespeare, Charlemagne, Hamlet, Napoleon, Freud, Tolstoy, Rachmaninoff.
"No!" not nearly obtuse enough,
A capibarra, kookaburra, the head of the constabulary,
The milk man, the post man, a man, the man, woman,
Mother, Grandmother, lover, other, sister,
Sis-is-is - is what? What is the purpose of this investigation?
Hanging from the totems a velvet chord suspends a Jacob's ladder
Each rung of the ladder an Escher painting,
The space surrounding is slightly distorted - the curvature remains unobserved by all but the most attentive,
Two of the local boys clamber up the majestic poles, their hands lightly greased in the way that is traditional,
As they slowly ascend the great height four thirty three can be heard emanating from a pair of gargantuan aging gramaphones,
Musical apparatus of this vintage is often unreliable and a slight deviance of the melody can be detected by those who care to inquire,
The piercing silence allows the youths to focus unabated in theirs, the most divine of tasks.
Mr Holloway suddenly becomes aware of a Mandelbrot set of divergent ideas,
Delving further into the chaotic cogniscience a path is illuminated between the multitudinal branching avenues,
"I'm struggling to follow my own trail of thought... admittedly however I could not be said to be competing with Joyce in any sense" Whinnies weak, whining, wet Waterway,
A frustration explodes outwardly and pointed demons enter from all directions,
"Your intellectual capacity is not considerable enough to achieve your misguided aim" exclaims Lucifer
"B-b-b-but"mutters mutton chop Holloway
"Of course if you'd researched beforehand in order to achieve the necessary plethora of references..." Beezlebub pauses,
"But then that would have contradicted your modus operandi to emulate the spontaneity of free thought" posits the great horned one,
"Simply put, you don't have the requisite intelligence, the knowledge, the spirit... the required mental clout to compete in this arena" states Satan smarmily
"Then I stand defeated. I shall lick my wounds, I shall do a jig and I shall cry to the moon"
"I shall return to the world with an altered mind, my honour perverted and my dignity averted" grieves yellow skinned horror Horroway.
"Cuck-cuck-cuckoo" cucks Prat Mulligan,
"The ineluctable modality of utter nonsense" moans the myopic mongrel Holloway