Cy Twombly
Posts
Mina Loy
Feminist Manifesto The feminist movement as at present instituted is Inadequate Women if you want to realize yourselves-you are on the eve of a devastating psychological upheaval-all your pet illu- sions must be unmasked — the lies of centuries have got to go — are you prepared for the Wrench — ? There is no half- measure — NO scratching on the surface of the rubbish heap of tradition, will bring about Reform , the only method is Absolute Demolition Cease to place your confidence in economic legislation, vice- crusades & uniform education-you are glossing over Reality . Professional & commercial careers are opening up for you — Is that all you want ? And if you honestly desire to find your level without preju- dice — be Brave & deny at the outset — that pa- thetic clap-trap war cry Woman is the equal of man — ...
James Schuyler
Royals Called dog men, they go out and have encounters. Their blue eyes pick up and discharge the green of their jackets, or ties. Men, with clear-green eyes unnerve angels. Or perhaps they are unnerving as angels. It is certain they are not angels. They maybe of another order, between us and heaven like the atmosphere between us and the sky, appointed to clarify deathbed facts. Unable to talk with us, they know about us and argue about the facts and the motives we may not know ourselves. They arguing might be clarifying to those who know them whom they do not know as they know us who do not know them. We see them of course, talk with them and even touch then, are struck by their glances. We show them our secret, however ill-kept. They tell us nothing about themselves. They seem to tell everything, what they are is obvious when we see them. We accept as facts our conjectures about them we were not aware we had made. They help make real our conjectures. They live in rooms around t...
my-poem
Poem (Flik Flak) Flik Flak Fluke of lies ever eager Tails which crew leeward Do Everything here Nothing there, suspiciously. A cold day. No, the air- Conditioner is on. The garden on 17 th Street Breathes too. What color Is the air? Oh someone Has stolen the cat again. Excellent squizeey eyes. Loquat what’s a loquat? Livermore Labs will be Calling any day, any day Now. October 18, 1997 San Francisco
Raymond Carver
"What You Need for Painting" by Raymond Carver from a letter by Renoir THE PALETTE: Flake white Chrome yellow Naples yellow Yellow ochre Raw umber Venetian red French vermilion Madder lake Rose madder Cobalt blue Ultramarine blue Emerald green Ivory Black Raw sienna Viridian green White lead DON’T FORGET: Palette knife Scraping knife Essence of turpentine BRUSHES? Pointed marten-hair brushes Flat hog-hair brushes Indifference to everything except your canvas. The ability to work like a locomotive. An iron will. *
Ashbery/Rimbaud
Of course this Ashberyan tone or flavor is all a matter of very specific word choices, like rendering the “ niais ” of “ Parade ,” “Sideshow,” as “nincompoops” rather than the “dimwits” or “fools” we find in other versions, or the “ subalternes ” of “ Villes [I] ,” “Cities [I],” as “flunkies” rather than “underlings.” Perhaps the most Ashberylike of all the Illuminations is “ Vies ,” “Lives,” in which the poet confess, “I don’t miss my old role in divine merrymaking.” How far other translators seem from this wild ruefulness, as when Wallace Fowlie reduces it to “I do not miss what I once possessed of divine happiness” — which just might work, I admit, if pronounced with a Nawlins accent by an actress playing the part of Blanche Dubois — or Martin Sorrell to “I do not regret my erstwhile share of divine gaiety,” which wouldn’t do even for an academic on his deathbed looking back on his too-many sherries with the English Department. And at the end of the same poem, comp...
