Alchemisland

Her swan hand banded with opal and topaz, straddled a gilt carafe

Her neck like a pale giraffe emeralds green as glass glinting like egyptian caskets

Elastics fasten her hair into exotic fashions, her architect an artist of passions

Her tacit manner, a taciturn mná, she is hewn with many facets 

Even the bold are struck with Hamlet’s profound inaction

Joyce begs the question, in Hamlet do we espy familial deception

Delectation in wives by brothers, eloquent scribes cuckolded writing poems about cuckoos

Perhaps that play’s inception was some unmentionable

Act of utter sacrilege, talk about tension at the dinner table

Both sons of Mary Arden but only one will put a hard on in Willy’s best one

Second best bed to my wife with a second in her bed, my mother’s second son

Some men get angry, take the law into their own hands

Others, our Willy included, wrote a pamphlet

I should try my hand at it