Perhaps a
piscine Rodin
this mer-
couple made
from the same basalt
as the shore. They
could be
singing. Is this
the song
of love? (& again
the ship the sea
is sailing on.)
A scene
that does not
seem to sing of
anything except
the Byzantine archi-
texture of
de Chirico's
mind. A stage-set
for a theater
of the absurd.
Pinned on a wall
a glove, a blank-
eyed bust. Green ball
in front, rooftop
in behind. & yet
this is the
siren song of
love that
fifty years before
made Yves Tanguy
jump from
a moving tram
that made
Magritte
say he saw
thought made visible
for the first
time. Making the
possible
improbable
but not
impossible. Pictures
within pictures.
Songs within
songs. Of
love. & other
strangeness.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
#47 The Song of Love
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