James Joyce's dirty letters to Nora

Well then. Good morning.
It is a good morning:
- I found the poem I was looking for last week
- I have gasoline in the car (thanks) and food in the cupboards
- Nauset beach awaits; Sunday I and four recent high-school graduates will fling clothing and caution to the wind, throwing bathing suits and selves into one very cold ocean
- Tonight I will see John Vanderslice and Jets to Brazil at the only venue in Tampa with a leopard-print pool table (which I will not use)
- Letters and packages are on their way to me and on their way from me simultaneously
- Postcard-x!

Orpheus and Prometheus and Adonis, oh my.