A Joy of Beauty is a Thing forever! A Joy of Beauty is a Thing forever! Listen, Charlie Brown, listen to what I've got! Tell the lads of North London-town! St. Agnes is BACK!

Whereas I had to put my Cantos in the autoclave before they'd let me run the gels with it in reach at Yale, to fluff between the streaking and the staining of bacteriophage.
The pages, curled and damp, kissed the bench, yet no mold grew, no thing
but incubated mice and bottled disease, synecdoche for catastrophe.

"Dear Angelica, Professor Hammer has now written on the blackboard this quote (or something) sent from Mr. Ezra Pound to Mr. Harold Hart Crane regarding Mr. Crane's work—'It is all very egg. There is perhaps better egg, but you haven't the ghost of a setting hen or an incubator about you.' But I have done some research and this comes off much harsher in other iterations, where Pound seems brutal, needing to be king and kinged. You know the type? Yes I can see you laughing now by your bureau; I can see you eating meatballs on Chapel Street; I see you entering the Center for British Art and drowning yourself in Turner. William Carlos Williams, that general practitioner, wrote Pound, expressing regrettable misgivings as to Hart Crane's talent—and you know that 'talent' in my ancient land was just a coin and a unit of mass—you like this? I'm sure you do (I see you smiling by your laptop, on your comforter)—but what does it mean?!?!?"
No response.

"One year floods rose, / One year they fought in the snows," tchotchkes keeping time.


"It was a catastrophe which gave a wrong direction to all mediaeval thought and threw it out of its course when, owing to the Renaissance, thought, which till then had been an end in itself, was degraded to a mere means to an end, namely, the knowledge of external scientific truth, when the purpose of knowledge became everything and the process of knowledge nothing. Thought then lost its abstract autonomy and became a servant; it became the slave of truth. ...The Renaissance brought about the great healing process, the great process of the vulgarization of sensibility, which swept away all mediaeval abnormalities and for the power of the supernatural substituted the beauty of the natural."

—Wilhelm Worringer, trans. Sir Herbert Read,
"The Psychology of Scholasticism,"

Form in Gothic, 1911