HOW THE IMAGE LOVES THE THOUGHT

there are two kinds of persons ... the imaginative and the intellectual ... the imaginative is a solitary spinning out yarns in color ... the intellectual is a herd'sman following the boundaries of necessity and absolute truth ... yes yes with this qualification and that ... but bound by necessity and absolute truth in the end ... imagination takes the herd'sman's conclusions as sometimes well-intentioned advice to help bide the time in the waiting room ... but it's the room he abides not the advice ... the fox in the fold the herdsman's wolf is always probability ... snot-nosed kid brother to necessity the real killer of contradictions ... probability for-the-most-part-backtracking-certainty just young and brash enough to queer the whole soup up ... doesn't bother the atticmen ... what do they care for in their garret chairs ... only the melody of the lines or the last sad whispers of color before night ... there was always the touch of the finger inside the elbow ... time's smile because it was dying ... blood pushing straining to gets its work done before dark so that each day might end in a one word tribute to thought