I lie on my back at midnighthearing the marvelous strange chimeof the clocks, and know it's mid-night and in that instant the wholeworld swims into sight for mein the form of beautiful swarm-ing m u t t a worlds-everything is happening,
Buhudda-lands, bhutiblazing in faith,
I know I'mforever right & all's I got todo (as I hear the ordinaryextant voices of ladies talkingin some kitchen at midnightoilcloth cups of cocoacardore to mump therinnegain in hisdarlin drain-) i will writeit, all the talk of the worldeverywhere in this morning, leav-ing open parentheses sectionsfor my own accompanying innerthoughts-with roars of meall brain-all worldroaring-vibrating-I putit down, swiftly, 1,000 words(of pages) compressed into one secondof time-I'll be longrobed & long gold haired inthe famous Greek afternoonof some Greek
Fame Immortal & they'llhave to find me where they findthe t h n u p f t of myshroud bags flyingflag yagging
Midnight back in theirmouths-Gore Vidal'llbe amazed, annoyed—my words'll be writ in gold& preserved in libraries
Finnegans Wake & Visions of Neal
