don't know much about

REMEMBERING HOW IT FELT IN CHILDHOOD

October falls in love
a Netherlandish painting

tho it will never be aware
of its stark figurehead intention

people are all like

the trees grow cold begin
to shit on everything




A MUSEUM


I remember that ramshackle harpsichord
some American pilfered from France

it's been in that same fake room
since I was a child

it said DO NOT TOUCH
but of course we did

can still hear the note

*

That painting of a huge field rife with black tulips
being destroyed
to increase the value

soldiers are busy doing this
they look like idiots

they are idiots

they brandish swords
wear armor

already in the service
of the global market

and this is what?
the 1700s? the 1600s?

the old story

*

rarity and evil
and money
the cock
the cunt
and art
hate denouement

LIFETIME
MOVIE
NETWORK

*

Walk with me
through this museum that's clearly
fallen asleep

that Dutch garden was real?

you think?

*

someone always

put a parable beside a body
for maximum pathos

Van Eyck
Fuck Off

*

was that real?

certainly the Wound was

*

the harpsichord

that had no sense

of pressure

*

there is This Garden, yes


the market that becomes a scrutinizing

intention that never stops

flowering?

*

I like sharing this feeling

with you, returning.

there's nothing to say

really. before it.


art's funny malaise

and embarrassment before death


*

its mock-bow

before

and to its opponent

*

we hungry shadows
disparaging this or that ism

but of course
you now observe lunch

is much more serious

than any immortality

that poses or is posed

*

and what remains

can only be

what is posed

or poses

*

and we all live

only to tell a pose

to Fuck Off

*

this is our malaise

*

our joy

leaving the museum