TS / 1904
From The Soul of Time
Time’s a circumference
Whereof the segment of our station seems
A long straight line from nothing into naught.
Therefore we say “progress,” “infinity” —
Dull words whose object
Hangs in the air of error and delights
Our boyish minds a hunt for butterflies.
For aspiration studies not the sky
But looks for stars
Open air casket prototype for the exhibition Exit Architecture presented at the Art Omi and the Pratt School of Architecture