Warren Brandt Berta and Grace 1966 oil on canvas Blanton Museum of Art, Austin, Texas |
Morris Broderson Lizzie 1966 pastel on paper San Diego Museum of Art |
Jack Chambers Olga, Diego and Geraniums 1966 oil on canvas Museum London, Ontario |
Edgardo Miguel Giménez Sylvia Feinstein Pinturas - Galeria Lirolay 1966 lithograph (poster for exhibition in Buenos Aires) Denver Art Museum |
George Brecht 15-Part Conundrum 1966 mixed media on linen Loeb Art Center, Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, New York |
Jack Beal Princeton Still Life with Trap 1966 oil on canvas Weatherspoon Art Museum, Greensboro, North Carolina |
Roy Dean De Forest Silas Newcastle Goes Down 1966 acrylic on canvas San Jose Museum of Art, California |
Paul Huxley Untitled no. 50 1966 acrylic on canvas Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
Alden Mason Parade 1966 acrylic on canvas Seattle Art Museum |
Michael Morris Untitled 1966 gouache on paper Art Gallery of Greater Victoria, British Columbia |
Jules Olitski Prince Patutsky's Command 1966 acrylic on canvas National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Joe Tilson Ziggurat 7 1966 screenprint Queensland Art Gallery, Brisbane |
Claude Tousignant Exhibition Poster for Claude Tousignant at Galerie du Siècle, Montréal 1966 screenprint Musée National des Beaux-Arts du Québec |
Ian Wallace Two Ketchup Bottles 1966 watercolor on paper Art Gallery of Greater Victoria, British Columbia |
Bruce Nauman Self Portrait as a Fountain 1966 C-print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Stanley Mouse Grateful Dead at the Avalon Ballroom 1966 lithograph (poster) Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto |
The Domesday Song
Jumbled in one common box
Of their dark stupidity,
Orchid, swan, and Caesar lie;
Time that tires of everyone
Has corroded all the locks,
Has corroded all the locks,
Thrown away the key for fun.
In its cleft a torrent mocks
Prophets who in days gone by
Made a profit on each cry,
Persona grata now with none;
And a jackass language shocks
Poets who can only pun.
Silence settles on the clocks;
Nursing mothers point a sly
Index finger at the sky,
Index finger at the sky,
Crimson in the setting sun;
In the valley of the fox
Gleams the barrel of a gun.
Once we could have made the docks,
Now it is too late to fly;
Once too often you and I
Did what we should not have done;
Round the rampant rugged rocks
Rude and ragged rascals run.
– W.H. Auden (1941)