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This started as an experiment to write ten poems a day. That clearly didn't last, but I'll still put up some words from time to time.

Some I will mean, and some I won't. None of these are finished. This is me, trying.

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Museum pieces

Both of these were written in December of 2004 after a visit to MoMA. I was struck by the way both figures were rooted in the ground, yet there was an ethereal quality to Mattise’s La Serpentine that juxtaposed the heaviness of Giacometti’s City Square.

La Serpentine
Alone, she thinks with pensive eyes and
wonders at the masses passing through her corridors
as a gentle finger plays upon her mouth’s soft smile
remembering that to be alone is not lonely
but a time to collect the abstract thoughts
of days past and this day passing
the graceful arc of her back hides
the small fist closed behind it and the mystery contained within

City, Square
Dark figures rise
cast up from the dampness
like Adam from dust
still tethered by their mortal feet
arms outstreched
ready to receive the undeserved bounty
shuffling toward the center
of life clearly restrained

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