I'm in the midst of moving, so my internet connection has just been hooked up again and I missed celebrating Joyce on Wednesday, but here's an old poetic dialogue from dyslexicon in honour of a belated Bloomsday:
JAMES: You ever get those things in your eye?
SAMUEL: What things?
JAMES: They're like dark spots that shift when you move your eyes.
SAMUEL: What, floaters?
JAMES: Is that what they're called?
SAMUEL: Yeah.
JAMES: What do you do about them?
SAMUEL: I don't know.
JAMES: Do you ever get them?
SAMUEL: No.
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