Flibbertigibbing amid a Hibernian haze
of morphemic blips in a syllabic maze,
where twisted syntax and recondite rhyme
ring Babel’s blind bells in back-to-front time,
consonants cacaphone in vocalic vortices,
while morphology marinates exegetes’ cortices.
Laced with a plethora of lexical play,
sentences wobble and slither away,
consciousness cascades, language unravels
into a stream of bibliobibulous bubbles
and if ever you manage to arrive at the end
you’ll find that it all starts over again.
Finnegans Wake is a linguistic spree.
S.O.S.
Adrift
