A Letter To Donald Friend (1915-1989)
Dear Donald Friend Where are you when your country needs you? The angels are bordering the neurotic legends and all of the rats are sinking through the water like hands into pockets We are the information givers The velvet men who feel With purposes not yet forgiven- for which we are alone in houses watching fires spill onto hearths We wonder why should we be forgiven? Why should the destruction of our lives be reason for art? Oh, Donald Friend, we are the honest ones- men who who don't know the real meaning of existence and probably never shall, yet we go on searching until right becomes left and life leaves us alone Donald Friend as I write I am sitting in the National Library of Australia I know what their drawers contain I know what treasure lies up those elevator shafts I burnt down the Art Gallery for you on your birthday It was a day that no birds flew and no words were written. The taxis were all still and I was half awake I burnt it down for you as they h...