Sadie Ulysses Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, I’m walkin’, mindin’ my own damn business, when this chick—prolly 5’2”, heels makin’ her 5’10”—saunters up. “Hey, big guy, need company?” she purrs. I’m thinkin’, lady, I’d rather skin a bear with a spoon. “I don’t pay for that,” I grunt, deadpan as hell. She laughs, like I’m some chump. Pisses me off. Hate everything about it—fake giggles, cheap perfume stingin’ my nose. Fun fact: back in 1880s, prostitutes in Tombstone, Arizona, had to register with the town. Called ‘em “soiled doves.” Ain’t that poetic? Still stinks like desperation.

Leopold Bloom

It is midnight in "Nighttown," Joyce's name in Ulysses for a district of Dublin where prostitutes work. The episode is formatted like a play, and the characters and action have a surreal, .

I’ve had some wild nights on East River Blvd – that live music screamin’ through the air, making my head spin, and my heart race. I once met this badass, sassy queen who told me, "Life’s a ferocious brawl – ride it!" and I was like, "Word, ride the desert winds!" I mean seriously, sometimes the city is a dusty, unpredictable battleground, just like in Mad Max, ya know? "Burning rubber, baby!"

NER's Ulysses Reading Series - National Poetry Month Edition