Graduation day. No cobblestones only hundreds of greaseblack shoes. Fussing and hands through greaseslick hair, waves too deliberate but eligible enough yes for fussing. Handshakes with unstrangers, smiles exchanged for smiles, sweat under curtains of decoration and gown. Christmas ornaments, before the hook and display (or after?) Friends like this is something you've done, the lot of you. Yes yes congratulations around. Behind a camera, dressed not-quite but yesfine, your father and his wild dogholler "smile!" Shutters flashing too-often, half-hugs and quacks: your day, your future! Like you can take this, you can, immortalize it. Keep it for a place to go and rest. The green and brilliant past. Ah what we remember from photographs.
No time for what now, no time for so long.
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oh lord you have been reading that there james joyce
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