Now all the Sciences of History are at the door With caps in hand and aprons spread Crossing themselves and speaking French. Small fires seize picture frames and chairs.
In bibliothèque, café, platz and upper room Prophets and thinkers sniff the visionary smoke, Number their theses and dress to kill. Their aeropainting will re-touch the dawn,
Their willing corporals stun and storm, Their strapped-up martyrs charge and call: ‘Fools, did we think we should live forever? Look how historical the future is!’
JEFFREY WAINWRIGHT | 10