augury doggerel

Sunday, March 21, 2004


At the art museum here, you are trailed by women. They turn on lights as you enter their section, they watch you look, and they turn out lights as they pass you off to the women of the next section, the next lights, the next watching. There is a prescribed circuit, and they want you to walk it once and leave. Still, the collection is bad and you don't want to see things twice.

As I move toward the door and finally out of their way, I see one pair of my followers pour their coffee at a window sill, and, in the next section, another pair sit down to lunch laid out on another sill. I wish them a good meal and I go out into the park.

Even the trees have provenance cards, but there are ducks and running water and winding paths here, there's a concrete whispering gallery that smell of urine, and a gazebo is full of men and women drinking beer from cans and laughing.


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