Everyday a journey for me now,
I may as well take a day long sojourn
Through Bloom's Dublin,
Lest I should meet her
Maybe on the green line,
Or in the Western quarter
Lord knows I feel it first in the
Pit of my stomach when I do.

A fat skull
And meaty around the edges
Smokes too, needs to lose
A few pounds and vices.
And all the while
I'm choking on the bile-like pride
Together with stomach-rot beer
In a lousy night club.

Fumbling with some change in my pocket
A few hundred won for the subway
A couple of notes
Old and soft, warm
Me and her
Dancing.
Ah, my Molly, not mine anymore I suppose
Come back to me.

Me like old skull and bones
Curmudgeon, having to wander
Out of my way
I'll give her the necessary wide berth
Inevitable now that she's bigger
No matter.
It won't stop him
And it never stopped me,
Kissing her large breasts
Hand gentle on her soft warm thighs

Why might that stop him?