The Plodding Dreams of Man

What if we’re wrong

What if we’re wrong, about all the plodding dreams of man

What if we’re wrong


If someone held a gun to your, (have always hated guns, a coward’s weapon. But it is a coward’s world… so you play the hand you’re dealt)

If someone held a gun to your head


right now,

in this place, in this time, in this moment

And gave you 5 seconds to name your favorite art book, or they pull the trigger

What would you say

What would you say

Which would you name

It’s a question that would only hold terror to a rabid collector of art books, to a lover of art

The uncaring rabble, such a question would not be wasted on

But for you

You happy few

For whom beauty matters

they will come to you, with their shiny boots, and flags of flying, and drums a beating, and torches lit, and guns a ready… and say choose one, to save from this new bonfire of the vanities.

Which would you choose

5 seconds

Tick Tock

For me I didn’t even need 3

The title came out of my mouth unbidden

And the dream evaporated

like the remnants of sweet on tongue


I had said Beksinski

The Fantastic Art of Beksinski (Masters of Fantastic Art S.)

And I woke from the dream, neither laughing nor screaming, but listening… to the sound of drums… coming nearer.

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