the cheeks of bitter on beaver street

the cheeks of bitter on beaver street

leopold saves stephen’s skin on beaver street

from the whores ‘n watchmen on their beat

raving genius stephen has had his spree

rudy kisses the holy book his eyes can’t see

unseen mist rolls along the docks helter-skelter

blanketing butt-bridge cabman’s shelter

from sackville street to amiens street station

it blinds the creator to his creation

the two men talk now unsure uneven

to a sailor from the three-mast rosevean

they harbour phantoms from the past

and lash their lost selves to the mast

an uphill walk takes them to eccles street

on a path of talk that’s bittersweet

leopold’s fumbles for his latch-key

he gets in through the scullery

He serves stephen cocoa with cream

And invokes his own poetic gleam

the topical verses in rhyme

he wrote for a gaiety pantomime

but stephen continues on his flight

heads out into the warm june night?

a heaven stree of stars in the absolute

hangs with humid nightblue fruit’

daybreak comes to beaver street

leopold makes out his budget neat

two pounds nineteen and three

but there is no entry for epiphany

it’s a long talk from beaver street

to molly’s bed in eccles street

to snore his sleep head to feet

and taste the warm cheeks of bitter-sweet

don’t you think that Stephen was cruel

to sing the ballad of little larry hughes?