Next poem is a poem with a--
I guess you could say a found title,
in the way that artists and exhibits will sometimes display
found objects, objet trouvé, like bits of driftwood
or stuff.
[CHUCKLES] Marianne Moore often will
use strange quotations, or funny phrases, or odd phrases,
anyway, that she's found in magazines.
Marianne Moore's favorite magazine appeared to have been
The Illustrated London News, a magazine I only, in England,
ever saw in dentists'.
But she's found some very curious and interesting things
there.
But this comes from over a storefront in Coney Island
about 10 years ago.
And it was a tattooist's, and it said at that time, Blackie,
the Electric Rembrandt.
Which was really great, because if you think of Rembrandt
as being the artist of chiaroscuro, light and dark,
that is also the tattooist's art.
That seemed nice.
And it's one of the few times I've
kept a title around with me until I could find something
to do with it.
Actually, it was only a few weeks.
But it was the title that attracted me to it first.
It was the thing I saw over the storefront.
"Blackie, the Electric Rembrandt."
We watch through the shop front while Blackie
draws stars, an equal concentration on his
and the youngster's faces.
The hand is steady and accurate, but the boy does not
see it, for his eyes follow the point
that touches, quick, dark movement.
A virginal arm beneath his rolled sleeve.
He holds his breath.
Now that it is finished, he hands a few bills to Blackie
and leaves with a bandage on his arm,
under which gleam 10 stars hanging
in a blue, thick cluster.
Now he is star-like.
It was once translated into Italian
and the last word, star-like, was
translated stellato, which it strikes
me is a very pretty word.