“On one occasion we were walking in silence and Fairfield said suddenly, ‘You know you use too much green in your painting.’ I said, ‘Fairfield, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say. We are standing in an envelope of green! There is green above and below, left and right, in front and in back of us.’ Fairfield looked all around intensely, then said, ‘You’re right: you probably don’t use enough green.'”
Quoted in Fairfield Porter: An American Classic, by John T. Spike
Wearing your insides on the outside
Or, The news no one notices
A dog’s yawn
is so long and slow.
All those sharp teeth
put menace in his boredom,
but see the fly
drifting by:
the dog yaps, but doesn’t care.
I’ve got a quiverful of children.
The Bible calls them arrows
and me lucky
and I am.
Though I’ve a pretty good view
of the target, and pull the bow
the same way every time,
bends in the air
send the one a-high
and the one a-low
and dams back in
their beaver,
aquiver.
I duck myself when they circle around.
I practice.
I do practice.
But my son and my daughter
fly where they will.
Over and under but especially
under the hill,
they fly where they will.
Utrecht Journal 