A Dream of Francis Bacon, image by Rupert M. Loydell
ANNUNCIATION BY FRANCIS BACON
Imagine! His smudges of raw paint
pulled into communion with the past:
the angel ill-defined, contorted,
with a gash for a mouth, can hardly
speak to the flesh wound that is
Mary’s face. Instead of a portico
and private cell there’s a room
outlined against saturated colour.
The dove is either that splash there
or has gone missing altogether.
You should be afraid. Should scream
and slur your speech, get drunk.
The spirit of God is upon you,
urgent and toxic. You’re soused,
unable to speak or think, have
been winging it from the word go.
—Rupert M. Loydell