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“Sun Cinema”

Mom offered me a trip to Ireland in November. Shouldn’t she know it, I need it now. I’m trying to read Ulysses and all there is is the cinematic sunshine here in the Midwest. Sunshine, like it’s hailing the Notre Dame football game that draws millions of dollars, when more fast moving I’ve become to my pelvic parts a homo sapien anomaly. Ulysses more fast-moving anyway. No day-hangover of downing jello shots, always anticlimactically. So here is that sun, full of betacaroteen, but I can’t help feeling like there’s an on and off switch, and it’s been switched on for those who do run full force, who’ve never seen what they wanted yet, not truly been to the bottom of an Mad Dog 20/20 sitting in broken glass, a passing delivery driver asking you, Are you alright? Such a silly question. Kindness is silly sometimes. No, I was. The gesture was less than meaningless, and I go on to reap what I sew. See, look. I can’t even turn the sun off.

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