A LITTLE ANTHOLOCT
As we forget our adequacy
In straining over the footlights of
Our brows. We abhor the nights
As an actor loves his "post-mortems."
We abhor the sleepless nights
As an actor sleeps in the "post-mortems."
PARKER TYLER
Un Martyr
Quentin Massys
Hear now the elegant chimes
over the low crawling water
the n~groes are sleeping
in the perched boat on the wave
The flowers unite
with furious odors
through the afternoon's
united song
How to gloss the word
of that feathery sky
and the feathery arrows
cluttering the monotonous void
Soon in a drop of blood
night may come
and animate the metal birds
to sing through longer evenings
BYRON
A.
VAZAKAS
15
