Found Poem – Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man p. 79
Half Dublin was witless;
circling round the neighbouring square,
down sidestreets, a skeleton
map in his mind.
The customhouse passed unchallenged.
The docks, quays, corks that lay bobbing,
yellow scum.
The vastness and strangeness of life
suggested unrest and wandering.
Amid this bustling life,
a vague dissatisfaction continued
as he sought someone that eluded him.
