pause
sink into the being of it
essence humming in the whiteness
perfect veil of silk hung dissecting
the daylight
floated colours
rain pressed against the glass
sink into the being of it
move along the edges
linger in the space created
vibrate to that keenness
pause
perfect space of cool light
chair-shapes cocooning
nestle under leaves
rain seducing window
outside nothing
continues.
April 12, 1996
Thoughts in a Gallery II
(Ray's view)
I came up here to get some
(My God, Morty, that's cute, huh?)
What sort of moron talks of art as "cute"
The old bag must be addled
Her voice goes through my skin like nails
I came up here to look at some
(My God, Frank, what are them two horses doing?)
I'm going to kill her if she doesn't shut up
The commissionaire's voice downstairs is a slow, gravelled rumble
Conversation chugging, slow and windy as an ancient train
I came up here so I could
(Oh look, Gert, that's Battle Park, ain't it?)
I think I'm going to kill her in a minute
Why do these people chatter in a place like this?
Does that old witch think it's Bingo, or a church?
Her hair is a perfect shade of blue
I came up here because I wanted
Peace and Quiet--
Jesus Christ!
I suppose I could slug her with that sculpture, granted I could
lift
it
Who are these idiots, anyway?
Keep following me when I am trying
to sink into this painting and every time I
get so I can almost walk into that furthest hill, there--
(Jesus Mary and Joseph, that's some queer picture, aint't it?)
I really am going to kill her in a minute.
April 12, 1996
Hee hee... :-D