« the eyes of all people are upon us | Main | Will you do the Fandango? »

Thursday, November 23, 2017

Think of a Rubens, he said to himself.

Cullen in the Afterlife:

He found it strange at first. A new dimension.  
One he had never guessed. The fourth? The fifth? 
How could he tell, who’d only known the third?
Something to do with eyesight, depth of field.
Perspective quite beyond him. Everything flat
or nearly flat. The vanishing point 
they’d tried to teach at school was out of sight
and out of mind. A blank.

P. K. Page.

ntodd

November 23, 2017 | Permalink

Comments

Post a comment