Page 91 - Jack Foley | The true litterateur
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              the year I turned 25 and he

              turned 45,                                     He immediately recognized
              he had a stunning vision                       my poetry

              that remade his life:                          as the multitudinous expression
              he saw living creatures                        it was, and praised it, smiling.
              in the ancient caves of France                 He might have been born

              and knew himself to be                         on August 9, 1940
              at once a primitive                            but instead was born

              and a Brooklyn-born sophisticate.              on April 1, 1920,
              The greatest exhibit of his work               born in the spring,

              I ever saw                                     an artist of things that grow,
              was in the cavernous lobby                     of the green fuse

              of a San Francisco bank                        that drives the flower.
              (the "caves" of our time!)
              where his paintings hung

              all over, above, below,
              at eye level, but above it too.

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