#537 L'Avenir

Everything in the distance seems so
picture perfect — the stars, the hills 
in shadow. & those things up close —
the open window, the pristine bench 
with that loaf so fresh you would 
swear you could smell it — refresh 

that first impression of perfection. 
Then doubts start creeping in. Why 
are there no lights dotting the hillside? 
Why are there no knick knacks around 
the house to indicate some evidence 
of human inhabitation? Who, therefore, 

baked the loaf? Is it really real? Or is 
this image of the future a wry obser-
vation by the painter that life as we
currently know it might eventually 
vanish from the planet because hu-
mankind cannot live by bread alone?

#536 Elseneur

The trees grown up
& shaped to repli-
cate the castle that 

once stood here. The 
place no longer a 
hamlet. Now over-

grown. No longer 
a place for Ham-
let to call Home.

#535 Confiture de Cheval

#534 Le Monde des Images

The window pane cannot
encompass the setting of the
sun. It cracks — obviously not 
double-glazed. & that image,
not on the floor, camera ob-
scura style, but, in a similar
fashion, trapped at a point 
in its pathway, imprinted on 
the glass. Now, on the floor, 
shards of sunset — clouds, 
reflections on the sea, sun.

Later, after he had initiated 
the shattering of the glass, 
Magritte wrote: If what is at 
least possible should truly hap-
pen one day, I would hope that
a poet or philosopher... would
explain to me what these shards 
of reality are supposed to mean.

I leave that in the inexplicable
basket. But, if there is some-
one out there…I'm listening.

#533 L'Ocean

He gets excited when
he's near the ocean. 

She is more reserved, 
thinks of the scallop 

shell she emerged on, 
wonders where it now 

is. It looks at first like 
an unequal relationship; 

but it seems to work.