What’s
that?
An egg?
By the brothers Boot it stinks
fresh.
Give it to Gillot.
Galileo how are you
and his consecutive thirds!
The vile old Copernican
lead-swinging son of a sutler!
We’re moving he said we’re off
– Porca Madonna!
the way a boatswain would be,
or a sack-of-potatoey
charging Pretender.
That’s not moving, that’s moving. What's that? A little green fry or a mushroomy one? Two lashed ovaries with prostisciutto? How long did she womb it, the feathery one? Three days and four nights? Give it to Gillot.
(...)
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| Samuel Beckett, Whoroscope, The Hours Press, Paris, 1930, Edition of 300 (100 copies signed by the author) |