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WORN TO A PHRASL


Blake had tea with me in the garden
behind Willow Wood Café, and I asked, “What is there where
imagelessness prevails?”

He told me, “Whereas some cosmoses are being transformed and some
cosmoses transfigured, whereas Peter Max paints on public transit,
some metamorphosis continues.”

“How is this possible,” said I, “where
there is no imagination?”

“Well,” he replied, “On the Day of Creation—
upDOWNupDOWNupDOWNup.”

  Richard Denner

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