How to Explain Minimalism to a Social Sculptor
if you could slow the world down fast enough
a sadness inconsolable, our lengths
squared, inert
boxes on horizons, for dogs to rush amongst
rounding (off) our corners, turning flesh
into stone, boulders
to move between, dogs gone, the wind
in their place now, the whistling and its wind
the only thing grown about us
vast and limbless, domes of stone
not representations but manifestations, pylons
for what’s new with us
it’ll always besiege us, our blocks eroded
Blake’s beached eternal, ocean gyres and their plastic
participatory art, posthumous
No comments:
Post a Comment