The Breath of All Angels

It is a neverending source of amazement to me that my friend Bob Hay, whose personal views on anything and everything can only be described as stodgy, is able in so many areas of art to produce materpieces that are so brilliantly whimsical.

For example, his collage of lingerie models and supreme court justices. For another example, his sketch of a standing ashtray on my porch. For a third, his drawing of a chicken eviscerator-roasting hook in common use during the colonial period.

I quoted one of his poems in a previous entry, Here’s another:

The breath of all angels, sweet and clear,
Cannot quite say what I feel
When your eyes smile at me that way
So dear