Joyce - Finnegan's Wake

How scenic is phrenetic fantasy Which fulminates within the manic mind Yet hides inside synaptic revelry, Articulated, yes, but hard to find? The minor absolution one demands From higher born authority than self Is often found in foreign sounding lands Or back of boxes hiding on the shelf. The madness of the mad though sad is not Without a nod transcendent, in a way; Which forces Joyce to ponder over plot And not which punctuation to display. Now take your time and read Ulysses first, Before the Wake of Finnegan is shown; For Finnegan becomes eternal thirst Where cognitive resolve remains unknown. Now bitter battles still are fought with fire In hallowed halls of higher learning fame Where academic's fight against desire To elevate James Joyce's brilliant name. Finnegan's Wake can make a man go mad; Incomprehensible at best, some say. Such genius has a way of causing sad Reverberations all along the way. So read a Portrait of the Artist first Then add Ulysses if you have the need; But Finnegan's Wake - unquenchable thirst A book to blow your brain and make it bleed.