"Idle is the day and lantern the hour as I delight in the splendor of your kiss grog"
About this Quote
Time slows down in this line, and that slowdown is the point. "Idle is the day" doesn’t just describe laziness; it makes time feel unassigned, unclaimed, like a room emptied of obligations so desire can echo. Then Yosito flips the clock again: "lantern the hour". An hour isn’t measured, it’s lit. The phrase turns time into atmosphere, suggesting intimacy as a kind of low, handheld illumination rather than a blaring spotlight. It’s a painterly move from an artist: hours become color temperature.
The sentence leans hard into lushness - "delight", "splendor", "kiss" - then lands on the off-kilter word "grog". That last note is the mischief. Grog is not a poetic rose; it’s rum-on-the-breath, the sailor’s drink, a little coarse, a little comic. Dropping it at the end punctures the candlelit romanticism just enough to keep it from floating away. The subtext: desire is both sacred and sloppy, glowing and slightly intoxicated. You can almost hear the grin behind the line.
Contextually, an artist born in 1953 sits at the crossroads of late-modern sensuality and postmodern distrust of pure lyric sincerity. The line reads like a deliberate hybrid: a romantic register staged, then sabotaged. It’s flirtation with an escape hatch - a way to admit rapture while signaling you’re not naive about the body, or the ways we sweeten it with a drink and a metaphor.
The sentence leans hard into lushness - "delight", "splendor", "kiss" - then lands on the off-kilter word "grog". That last note is the mischief. Grog is not a poetic rose; it’s rum-on-the-breath, the sailor’s drink, a little coarse, a little comic. Dropping it at the end punctures the candlelit romanticism just enough to keep it from floating away. The subtext: desire is both sacred and sloppy, glowing and slightly intoxicated. You can almost hear the grin behind the line.
Contextually, an artist born in 1953 sits at the crossroads of late-modern sensuality and postmodern distrust of pure lyric sincerity. The line reads like a deliberate hybrid: a romantic register staged, then sabotaged. It’s flirtation with an escape hatch - a way to admit rapture while signaling you’re not naive about the body, or the ways we sweeten it with a drink and a metaphor.
Quote Details
| Topic | Romantic |
|---|---|
| Source | Help us find the source |
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