Julie Hughes, "Old Bungalow," 2014
Remnants of a lost language grace the front door, all Greek to our bungalow, whose stick-figure translation of an ancient temple entrance frames a way in—not to Old World gods, but to New World aspirations. Its proportions are square as a shaped-note sing. Vestigial columns thin as saplings, Homeric hymns lathed down to American vernacular, it is a Sacred Harp architecture as plain-spoken as its pagan ancestors were eloquent.
No comments:
Post a Comment