The news is of tunnels.Rabbits burrow through walls.In my bedroom, they recur like dreams.There are many, so many.Something’s wrong with their bellies.Whole warrens are swollen and sore.You’ve seen them on maps (nests clumped in dim corners),In photographs (eyes limned with debris,Plastered with ears and daring assistance).Their heart is a home is a hole.
Anyone can be famous for 15 minutes. That’s the promise in Andy Warhol’s paintings, films and books. He became a celebrity. You can too.
Like William Morris before him, Don Norman is a designer who prizes both beauty and practicality. It’s a stance writers can learn from.
Is rock the same as stone? Which is jagged? Which is round? You can guess because of your natural feeling for sound and meaning. Tolkien had that sensitivity to an almost superhuman degree.
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We were queuing in BerlinWhen Tom explained the senses:Waves, beams and vibrations,The pin-holes of the eyes. “That’s one interpretation.”In a courtyard, we were waiting,Entering gallery spaces,A nerve-bundle at a time. Then framed before Athena,We quailed before Athena,Thoughts stirring in the oils,Oils dancing though bone dry. Two to make a painting.One more again to tango.And all …
Christo put ordinary objects on display as if they were sculptures. By the end of his life, he was presenting whole buildings as artworks, including the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. He took over the world.
I. Earth’s crown cracks a chasmThrough thunderhead stolid as marbleAnd inflamed fissures glow to fracture‘til anger dies – wretched, self-devoured Such a nightThat the billows bellow bloody murderAnd the sleet sheers through the makeup of a foolLifting layers of grief from twinned, unfathomed poolsThat reflect the insatiate sheets of fire Here the orison of the …
Lunging forward, knuckles ‘gainst the greenTed demonstrates the knack Bending to the gravity of desire,Consciousness flung just shy of the jack. Downstream: small white andLarge black knock and clack.
You raised a finger to draw something.The air had been plain before.Now it wore a triangle. Samurai arranged flowers, you said. And revered nature, particularly trees. Of course, the cherry and the maple still captivate JapanDuring their short, separate seasons of brilliance. These words themselves formed a careful arrangement.You lit white candles so it could …
