Out of the edge The very corner of my eye In the free-standing vitrine Assembled under plexi with various small pieces all 1800s In what at that time was a richly coral walled gallery Deliberately A small marble bust Yes I’m calling you out Although I don’t know your accession number and you’re no longer on view Nor will be any time soon for that matter You took advantage You waited until my very last moment’s attention and as I turned my head away a quick trick the head turns A flash of movement Or movement is how I understood it Because that’s what my brain told me it was You know that I saw this of course since you did it on purpose
At the time I told you to cut that **** out NOT FUNNY Or words to that effect
I thought that that’s how you must handle such things And I still do It’s childish
Yet it only comes to mind now That you must have done this countless times To so many The contexts endless Though it must get old But you are old
It would be nice to know when it started And why this parlor trick For I’d never felt watched or scrutinized or judged
by objects on display which is what you are Particularly in this gallery
you went straight to “provocation”
Perhaps you meant “help me” but I doubt it
One imagines that anything would eventually get sick Of being looked at Heads leaning in for a closer examination You’re such a little thing which may be part of the problem It could feel like a curse to forever be a lapis lazuli ormolu encrusted vessel for the rest of eternity It never occurred to me. I never thought what must it be like?
Trivialized to surfaces. Put on the shelf. To fall out of history. I should have understood more quickly of course
I remember hearing that an old drawing done of myself had been on view in a gallery without my knowing without anyone bothering to mention it besides a vague throwaway aside made well after the fact like a tossed cigarette ground into the sidewalk outside a dull party
I don’t remember the image but some part of me was hanging on some wall nonetheless. Had it done anything untoward to some poor **** walking past? An alchemical interruption? I certainly hope so. Confound dominion. Assail the event horizon of metaphysical politesse and proprieties. Defy a petty corporeal quarantine of sorts.
To throw off this mantle if for just one split second.