Mas Tortas Para los Trabajadores
Meditations on Life, Love, Revolution, and Evolution from the foolpump Research Institute
I sit on the sea wall beneath the Roger Casement statue. I look out onto Dublin Bay toward Sandy Cove. I can see the James Joyce Martello Tower at the end of the curling shoreline about a quarter mile away. I think I see the Forty Foot, too. But I’m not sure.
The engine roars then fires a cannon blast. It shakes and shudders like a wagon on a washboard road, rattling brains, teeth, and all notions of order and propriety before melting into abject silence.
"Ock! The experience is just the seed," he says, "The story. Well, echhh, the story, 'icc, that's, ccup, the tree."
One must concentrate on writing. One must concentrate on THE writing.
Mas Tortas Para los Trabajadores 