Painter of asparagus and raspberries,
he’s added lemons too and gooseberries
in tangible magnificence.
He sets them down, depicts their shape.
A rigid order they communicate,
stubbornness that helps the viewer share
durable pretence.
Things edible and perishable as
men are, have for a brief space been
willfully set apart and raised
above nature’s breathlessness. They must
and would transcend it, before becoming
indistinct remnants on a dinner-plate
or scrap heap.
This is the Mask 
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