The polished surface throws
back the arrow. Beneath it,
handwritten in a painstaking
artificial script, a script from
the convent, is “an American
may possibly know the customs
of your country better than you
do.” Visible form is excavated.
Shape dissipates. About this
ambiguity I am ambiguous.
To reproduce & to articulate; to
imitate & to signify; to look &
to read. What misleads us is the
inevitable futility of converting
the text to some glaring color
when a simple swipe of a rag
could soon erase it & reduce
phoneticism to mere gray noise or
inconspicuous article. Treasure
the pearls of what you have read.
Mark Young, 2015
This Is Not a Pipe, by Michel Foucault
The Ladies’ Book of Etiquette, by Florence Hartley