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| Camille Pissarro Ferry at La Varenne Saint-Hilaire 1864 oil on canvas Musée d'Orsay, Paris |
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| Alfred Sisley Evening in Moret, end of October 1888 oil on canvas Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid |
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| Gustave Courbet The Mill at Orbe 1875 oil on canvas National Museum Cardiff, Wales |
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| Odilon Redon Road to Peyrelebade before 1916 oil on paper Musée d'Orsay, Paris |
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| Constant Troyon The Pond (Washerwomen) 1840 oil on canvas Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Carolus-Duran Walk in the Forest 1861 oil on canvas Indianapolis Museum of Art |
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| André Derain Church at Chatou 1909 oil on panel Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid |
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| Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot Cathedral at Chartres painted 1830, retouched 1872 oil on canvas Musée du Louvre |
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| Charles-François Daubigny Harvest 1851 oil on canvas Musée d'Orsay, Paris |
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| Léon-Augustin Lhermitte Harvest in the Valley 1904 oil on canvas Speed Art Museum, Louisville, Kentucky |
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| Eugène Boudin Beach at Trouville 1867 oil on panel Musée d'Orsay, Paris |
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| Gustave Caillebotte Boating on the Yerres 1877 oil on canvas Milwaukee Art Museum |
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| Édouard Manet Vaporetto leaving Boulogne 1864 oil on canvas Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Ferdinand de Puigaudeau Night Fair at Saint-Pol-de-Léon ca. 1894-98 oil on canvas Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid |
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| Camille Pissarro Boulevard de Montmartre at Night 1897 oil on canvas National Gallery, London |
from The Truth is Concrete
The book about Brecht separating at the seam
because my reading had been the last one it could take
before breaking into Exile and After, California
in the middle, with the playwright in short sleeves,
bored on the PCH, looking at the dramatic
cliff work with a friend who meant well, driving,
arriving at the slumlord dockyards saying at last scenery.
You must forgive me or forgive the book for breaking.
I was tired, you see it was a paperback, from the time
people actually wanted ones like that, thought
books like that should be held in hands
on beaches or in cars or in cafes. Sleepy, almost sleepy,
falling asleep, awake, now, I admit it,
I was completely awake, listening to the wind, which I cannot defend.
Nothing in the mind but that reckless pleasure
and somewhere in the book Brecht saying the truth is concrete.
– Katie Peterson (2013)