15 January 2004
fate, etc.
in the pink palace
every doorway’s blocked
by a pile of art books
when the posse
fresh from the sticks
finally breaks in
they ride up and down
play polo in the banquet hall
disregard the man
with the small nose
who barks a command
he’s the king
of sugarland
his avenues of ice
crisscross the city
in his tower he
chews a muesli bar
monitors the situation
soon cathedrals
palaces and domes
will glitter in the dawn
grunts and groans
from bestiaries and bedsits
pulsate across the serpentine
electric fluoro arches
buzz the atmosphere
robot cleaners squirt
every spot with
nanoscopic agents
as the sun rises
children wearing garlands
wade in fountains
And all that mighty heart is
meanwhile
back in the art books
the gas dancers
whores and harlequins
with their flagella and columns
construct the world
they make mountains
and illegible curves
from grey matter
accumulate vein on
vein of braque
kandinsky pollock hundertwasser
wondering why
in the history of art
some moments
are more frozen than others
balletic epiphanies
in umber
fire on the thames
dido stretches, yawns
or just a detail
in the kunsthistorisches
a man in a boat
fishing
black words
in black woods
read ’em if you can
And all that mighty heart is – from the last line of ‘Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802’ in William Wordsworth: Poems, in Two Volumes: Sonnet 14 by William Wordsworth