Poet! I like not mealy fruit; give me
Freshness and crispness and solidity;
Apples are none the better overripe,
And prime buck-venison I prefer to tripe.
Poet! I like not mealy fruit; give me
Freshness and crispness and solidity;
Apples are none the better overripe,
And prime buck-venison I prefer to tripe.
“Last night when we were talking about pure cinema, and I called for a transvaluation of all values, and you said that light was the absence of light — we weren’t communicating then, were we? It was just jargon, wasn’t it? Just noise?”
Donald Barthelme | “L’Lapse”