Scaffale
Dust layered
Web of Spider weaving
over that soothing ink
over that glued tissue of paper
over that omniscient lord of words
Pulled the hardcover Norton
Waving his neighbor Riverside
Queen Victoria sneak out
To chat with her newly pal Fitzgerlad
"Would you like to have a cup of tea?"
"How about listening this piece of Jazz?"
Look ! Here comes Vonnegut the grotesque
With contempt that social conversation
bringing his panaroid of Tralfamadore
gloating that disastor in the following
On the other side
Joyce strolling in the labyrinth of meditation
Poor Stephen Dedalus lost in the labyrinth,
Maestro's pitfall and intrigue
which desperately needed the annontation,
the emergecy call driven by
the efficient, efficious seer Ganduff
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