Silent Reef 80 x 80 x 1.8 cm - acrylic on canvas
REVERB AT LOW VOLUME
To your left
a threadbare curtain, swelling
in the breeze, a purple sail
under which, you briefly imagine, Cate Blanchett’s
eying her lover on the Royal Barge. How retro! On paper
are words that would bore anyone to death, which means
all bets are off, you have NOTHING to say.
Oh writer, oh poet, make yourself useful, take out the garbage
at least. Follow your nose next door where
fat ribs on a neighbor’s grill sizzle, his taciturn
wife, plump as a burrito, swiping her phone.
Finally, the meaning of life—and it’s… food? Food offered
by a woman whose smile says there’s no trouble in the world.
Or is it the locked-in Mardi Gras of a smart phone? Or is
it October light in this garden, lovely and dark-rimmed?
I mean it is dark, almost black, BEHIND the light.
There’s no way into something new but to switch on the lights
and watch—with relative compassion or mild
sadic curiosity—the cats—pretty, long-haired psychopaths—
cornering a suicidal moth. An innocent
hits the off switch, but soon we hear the growl of success: of course,
the gorgeous fuckers can see in the dark.
Edie Brickell - Good Times
