Apart
Eye spied edge Far-off Intact Circled hedge, Solitude Empty land Dotted scape Foot stained sand, Approach. Retreat. Sound the patter Timid feet, Hold. Hold. Wait and see. Sturdy cage: actions, faces; unbetrayed Well worn footpaths, they all remain The one alone. The mass contained.
Then from the starving cagework city a horde of jerkined dwarfs, my people, with flayers' knives, running, scaling, hacking in green blubbery whalemeat. - James Joyce, Ulysses