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Nocturnes: At The Vienna School Of Art
[after Charles Beaumont's story, "The Howling Man"]
Yes, typical: an adolescent fool
wanted to study at Vienna's School
of Art, which gives a splendid education
for those chosen---to whom art is a calling,
who can offer a worthy demonstration.
But he could only show a deep obsession
to which his words and paintings gave expression,
relentless through the interviewing session.
I told him quickly, bluntly, without stalling:
his paintings just were not acceptible
(weak talent is not built by fierce and full
passion, uttered without the least control).
I did my very utmost to convince
him that his paintings did not meet conditions
that govern each and all of our admissions;
and No Exceptions kept the process fair.
Unlike so many of his fellow hicks,
he left a total, but awkward, impression
of himself, so unusual how it sticks
in my mind. "Take the first train back to Linz,"
I told him, "and consider a career
"other than art." He did not want to hear
that: his face grimaced, his fists clenched in rage---
seeming quite powerful for his young age.
I said, "The army . . . maybe, politics----
perhaps the townsmen will elect you mayor."
Storm clouds gathered, the sunlight had grown dim
at his retreat from the admissions hall.
His parting anger gained nothing at all,
and I wonder what will become of him.
