Will you walk into my wavetrap? said the spiter to the shy.

Come, smooth of my slate, to the beat of my blosh.

*

Is it in the now woodwordings of our sweet plantation where the branchings then will singingsing tomorrows gone and yesters outcome as satadays aftermoon lex leap smiles on the twelvemonthsminding?

*

Also Spuke Zerothruster

*

With sobs for his job, with tears for his toil, with horror for his squalor but with pep for his perdition, lo, the boor plieth as the laird hireth him.

*

Ace, deuce, tricks, quarts, quims. Mumtiplay of course and carry to their whole number. While on the other hand, traduced by their comedy nominator to the loaferst terms for their aloquent parts, sexes, suppers, oglers, novels and dice.

*

It follows that, if the two antesedents be bissyclitties and the three comeseekwenchers trundletrikes, then, Aysha Lalipat behidden on the footplate, Big Whiggler restant upsittuponable ...

*

Arthurgink's hussies and Everguin's men.

*

As Rhombulus and Rhebus went building rhomes one day.

*

I cain but are you able? Amicably nod. Gu it! So let's seth off betwain us.

*

so prim, and pick upon his ten ordinailed ungles, trying to undo with his teeth the knots made by his tongue, retelling humself by the math hour, long as he's brood, a reel of funnish ficts apout a shee ...

*

Benjermine Funkling

*

in what niched of time is Shee or where in the rose world trysting, that was the belle of La Chapelle, shapely Liselle, and the peg-of-my-heart of all the tompull or on whose limbs-to-lave her semicupiose eyes now kindling themselves are brightning ....

*

as though he, a notoriety, a foist edition, were a wrigular writher neonovene babe!

*

an you could peep inside the cerebralised saucepan of this eer illwinded goodfornobody, you would see in his house of thoughtsam (was you, that is, decontaminated enough to look discarnate) what a jetsam litterage of convolvuli of times lost or strayed, of lands derelict and of tongues laggin too, longa yamsayore, not only that but, search lighting, beached, bashed and beaushelled a la Mer pharahead into faturity, your own convolvulis pickninning capman would real to jazztfancy the novo takin place of what stale words whilom were woven with and fitted fairly featly for, so; and equally so, the crame of the whole faustian fustian, whether your launer's lightsome or your soulard's schwearmood, it is that, whenas the swiftshut scareyss of our pupilteachertaut duplex will hark back to lark to you symibellically that, though a day be as dense as a decade, no mouth has the might to set a mearbound to the march of a landsmaul, in half a sylb, helf a solb, holf a salb onward the beast of boredom, common sense, lurking gyrographically down inside his loose Eating S.S. collar is gogoing of whisth to you sternly how - Plutonic loveliaks twinnt Platonic yearlings - you must, how, in undivided reawlity draw the line somewhawre)

*

(and in truth, as a poor soul is between shift and shift ere the death he has lived through becomes the life he is to die into ...

*

our dappled yeye here, mine's prsbyoperian, shill and wall) we see the copyngink strayed line AL

___

(resumed reading through Finnegans Wake at the rate of one page each day on 1 January 2011 )