15 MAY 2004, Page 62


The pictures look at the people Like animals in the zoo, The landscapes growl and thump the bars, The gouache goes twitawhoo.

The still-life slides along the wall In search of devourable faunas, The portraits gibber and show their parts And play with each other in corners.

The people throw them critical buns, And sometimes they want them for pets, For an etching is jolly to have round the house And a mezzotint never forgets.

But the pictures remember the forests And the waters' imponderable roar, And some grimace back at the people. And some keep watching the door.

And at night when the full moon is blowing The moon-silver dust on the blind, They howl for the madness and freedom They had roaming wild in the mind.

Nicholas Salaman