Suppose it were Friday cxxii: Gathering speed

Have you been to the Musée d'Orsay

to see Millet's inspiration of the

monocoque body for MoMA's favorite

motorcar? There's still time, even

as fast as fashion changes, today.

Luxury never commemorated labor so

swimmingly, or speed, its posture.

For every kernel of grain the gaze

assembles, discovery's less dimin-

ished than enhanced by a certainty

of following a grand haphazard way

of being formed, shaped, en route.

Now our demagogue for ancient jobs

bestrides the stage of luxury more

foully than emission standards can

bear, negligent and false to life,

while the provenance of art is oth-

erwise. Millet aroused indignation

at the Salon in 1875, but his work

was later bequeathed to the Louvre

by a noble vigneronne of Champagne

to warn and edify false sentiment.

The picture's of a gender's place,

and we watch a gathering of speed.

Jaguar 
E-Type 2+2
1961 - 1975

Jean-François Millet
The Gleaners
1875

We go home now ix

A friend wrote in
that he'd majored
in Philosophy, an
approach to fact;
and sharply did I
feel a separation
in a structure as
a crack in a bell 

 Illumination of the Pantheon

 is always in the same place,

 because the edifice is still

 one place, while reflections

 will shift, as a clapper may

 strike a bell or vice-versa.

 There aren't consciousnesses

 in alternation by the hours,

 they are Pantheons, that al-

 ways possess the same pitch.

 We have the same government,

 every moment in every thing.

Michael Flynn, the lucky one

           

   In very few days and
   with no apparent pur-
   pose of self-regard,
   he has shown the path
   the whole government
   will take, after twis-
   ting in the firestorm
   of its inventions.

   He inadvertently spoke
   with incomplete infor-
   mation. Why not? It's
   not as if this weren't
   how they seized power,
   it's not as if he were
   the whole rogue putsch.

Anyone short a Valentine?

I honestly do
not think so.

    It was not a bad couple of weeks
    of lawyering for loyalty and re-
    ality, by the most consequential
    Acting Attorney General since we
    lived with the Nixon crime wave;
    
    and yes, for unconditional love.

  An astounding
  inevitability
  circumscribes
  the Valentine
  she delivered
  to the People.

  Tell this for
  those waiting
  off our shore.






      I asked why
      the halo

      does he
      survive

      by art
      by virtue

      by night
      I saw the rust

      around his eyes
      I saw why

      the halo,
      why he wept.




















Denis Bold
Hinge
  The Iron Dog
  [extract]
2015
op. cit.


Jean-Pierre Melville
Le Cercle Rouge
1970

Diamond bracelets Woolworth doesn't sell, ba-by

  The Duke of Devonshire allowed
  a drawing that had been in his
  family for 290 years to be auc-
  tioned some 5 years ago, fetch-
  ing the highest price ever ach-
  ieved by a work on paper. Such
  things come and go, don't they. 

Raphael

Head of an Apostle

ca 1518

Ivan Terestchenko

photography

2009

Jimmy McHugh

  and Dorothy Fields

I can't give you anything

  but love

1928

Episodes for the mentalities

  Like a restive Ishmael, in
  need of resort to sea, I 
  revisit the polymath works
  of Ivan Terestchenko from
  time to time. In fact, I
  gave myself the pleasure a-
  gain yesterday, and came a-
  way refreshed by a distinct
  impression that a state of
  méchance - which translates
  poorly as our word, malice -
  is highly dependent upon in-
  cident and bad illumination.
  There just are not tens of
  millions of persons in this
  country who will respond to
  a call of malice. Mischance 
  is a fluke, not a trait.

     Merci.

i    Ivan Terestchenko

     drawing in ink on paper

     ca 1995

     2009

ii   René Maltête

      1930 - 2000

      tribute, Terestchenko

      2009

iv  Ivan Terestchenko

     ca 1996

     Project for a dust jacket

       or gallery announcement

    Sailor drawings, made at sea

    [Demand publication: it could come]

Morning window study

                                      .. the odor

of mid-summer hanging in winter.

                       

  On January 16, 1989, the poet

  Philip Levine published a long-

  er version of an extraordinary

  poem he called, Perennials,

  than a reduction he issued two

  years later, in his own collec-

  tion, What Work Is. Scholars

  must surely be driven batty,

  in their quarrel over which 

  is the greater, the more auth-

  entic, the ultimate statement.

  Which voyage of Ishmael's was

  his true return to the sea, we

  might as well ask. Every visit

  proves the mystery of this po-

  em; this morning, just a frag-

  ment brings me to its presence.

Philip Levine

What Work Is

  Perennials

op. cit.

Photo credits unknown

Suppose it were Friday cxxi: No time for sleeping in

  Of all the courtesies extended
  Thursday by the Ninth Circuit,
  bestowing the decision midweek
  has had the effect of soothing
  our defenses no more than they
  should be, given the interest-
  ing challenges confronting us.

  No doubt there'll be a
  haberdasher to defend,
  a spokesman to reprim-
  and, a global pallete,
  pleading for coherency
  in the swirling, moody
  dabblings of dementia,
  enabled adventitiously
  by predictable cowards
  in control of Congress.

  Their plan is right on
  track. He's their can-
  ary. They'll go as far
  as he can, to mine us.
  
  

United States Court of Appeals

  for the Ninth Circuit

Order

  State of Washington; State of

  Minnesota v. Donald J. Trump,

  President, et al.

February 9, 2017