"In the sciences there is no such thing as the profession of critic." --Arnheim

"The Wreck of the Edward FitzGerald"

the final silence of the page
dances in the mute sunlight
we look up from startled doze
at what is bearing down on us
and i cannot unfold he thought
and it worms free
all the thousand clouds
between one brief recurrence and the next
shimmer
in their thousand ways
and it is these i sing


Stuart Monkey Smith at Deviant Art.


Pledge. (thanx Melanie!)