…'oday’s’ dissonance in painting and music is merely the consonance of ‘tomorrow’.
Author: Sophisticated Ape
A space is not spent, it is not used, it is similar, it is represented. This shows no more...
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In an old dull yard near Camden Town, Which echoes with the rattle of cars and ‘busses And freight-trains,...
“Many words for few things!” “Death ends all; judgment comes to all.” DEATH SPEAKS At night, in winter, when...
Half a mile from the Heart, We stopped to stretch And kick the tires of our egg salad sandwich. “But this is ghost land, territory of Night,” our driver warned. “No place for childlike wonder.” So we rolled further into the west Toward pink spires and totem stones Where willowy mists plumed up from canyons And coagulated into coarse light....
Grackles, trees— I been thinkin’ ’bout ’em all: I been thinkin’ they’re all right: Nothin’ much—Gosh, nothin’ much against...