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quite a curious coincidence in that I've just (literally the moments before opening this thread) been toying with various ways of 'deforming' the word 'splot', as Bacon deforms Velasquez, in a little poem I'd recently written, which is otherwise not quite the same as Ken's forceful harsh piece. On 1 May 2010 03:17, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > yes to Andrew on this. > > and I've learned a new word, 'splot'. > > should 'overcooked' be 'undercooked'? > > thanks, Ken. > > (today we get to bring home our new pup. > Any progress, Ken, on your scheme?) > Max > > Quoting andrew burke <[log in to unmask]>: > > > I love it. The energetic brushwork shows the emotion - a self deprecating > > humour that made me smile in collusion ... I'm still smiling in a Bacon > sort > > of way. > > > > Andrew > > > > On 1 May 2010 06:08, Ken Wolman <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > > > > > AGE SLIDES UNDER THE DOOR AS OIL PAINTS > > > > > > I don't need to shave to see my future > > > in the purple scream. > > > On TV between shows about predatory big cats > > > there's a commercial for a scooter chair, > > > the old fart motorchair for aggressive men sick of their lives > > > who race down the middle of the boulevard > > > in Long Branch, New Jersey, trying to stage > > > insurance collisions because they need a Medicare supplement > > > or maybe because they might just be killed and end it. > > > > > > I awaken and, before my daily filter kicks in, I am in a scooter too > > > and (sing) Do You See What I See?-- > > > I am a paint-by-numbers copy of Francis Bacon's > > > "Study after Velazquez's Portrait of Pope Innocent X" > > > with the ghastly old dude seated on a scooter throne > > > looking to play bumper cars with Cardinal Borgia > > > because they both are waiting for death and it's been > > > years since Borgia, at least, can remember > > > what it feels like to get laid. > > > > > > That makes me feel just a bit better > > > because if my dreams are not much fun, > > > at least Bacon's must have been rarer than overcooked steer. > > > For how else could anyone bear to face a day > > > with that inner face, truthtelling, open to the world, > > > a purple splot of skeleton bleeding rage from every pore, > > > forcing some sucker priest to take him out in his scooter > > > to witness his final prayer, slamming at full force on the downgrade > > > into the back of a tractor trailer to end this holy farce > > > and send home the painter, his work done for the day. > > > > > > KTW/4-30-10 > > > > > > -- > > > ---------------------------- > > > Ken Wolman > > > > > > http://awfulrowing.wordpress.com > > > http://opensalon.com/blog/kenneth_wolman > > > http://wearethecure.org/friends/cids-memory-p-394.html > > > > > > > > > > > -- > > Andrew > > http://hispirits.blogspot.com/ > > 'Mother Waits for Father Late' republished available at > > http://www.picaropress.com/ > > http://frankshome.org/AndrewBurke.html > > > > > > > > ------------------------------------------------------------ > This email was sent from Netspace Webmail: http://www.netspace.net.au > -- David Bircumshaw "Every old house was scaffolding once/And workmen whistling" Website and A Chide's Alphabet http://www.staplednapkin.org.uk The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/david.bircumshaw twitter: http://twitter.com/bucketshave blog: http://groggydays.blogspot.com/