mar 28, 2012
“. . . I am getting on nicely in the dark. My
ash sword hangs at my side. Tap with it: they do. My two feet in his boots are at the ends
of his legs, nebeneinander. Sounds solid: made by the mallet of Los Demiurgos. Am I
walking into eternity along Sandymount strand? . . .”
Stephen walks blindly in borrowed boots and trousers. Los demiurgos and William Blake.