29 June 2020

Out on the perimeter fence
Lightly snowing
The big man up a ladder
Pulling the rusted wire taut
Levering the clips in place
So worn but it holds
Tomorrow they will tackle the chainlink

Sitting at the card table
Pulling old teeth from old jawbones
There is a trick to it
Even now, the table covered with teeth
Like a game of dominoes
He still sometimes forgets
The precise pressure and twist
Necessary to remove them
Whole to the root

Later, making coffee in a tin for them both
Restoring this place
Where he suffered so much
Most of it under the big man's hands and
Instruments
Stockholm syndrome it is called
But the name seems inadequate
For such a feeling of peace

31 May 2020

I sit waiting
In the gallery
Watching the street and

Checking reflections for you.
A nearby recording
Explains Fluxus
Or something.
The French recedes into
The melodic honking of geese.