they moved her, you know, from the trolly
to a plinth .not sure whether to be honored,
stayed still with glass, bandages
a message came, choked on tears,
sobbing rose. that one should
mrs ciano received a message.
who so mrs ciano ?
are you blest, is this
how to say your name?
ask the curator, learn
another world, where
not all is at it seems.
it is just an opinion.
they took the paper, the cotton
mostly think so these days, even when worked out as planned.
have been wondering what is the point, like is there a point?
or is it all pins and needles. over lunch, we discussed.
i chose the duck wraps, minding my pronunciation. she pointed
out that the point may be, that there is none, therefore
I am going back to montgomery to buy a measuring
having eaten too much cheese, watched
surreal, tremendous film, find a head,
with headache at nine minutes to seven.
bravely drink tea, carry on until it fades,
the british way. this is the least of the
worry in this world of ours.
ibruprofen takes this ill away.
the news is on the radio
in the store room with the robes,
boxed, marked robes. some people
don’t like labels, although it is the source,
installed, the lady called her wierd, name calling.
the paper, the pins.
i call her mrs ciano, pleased to see her
we talk, and she is company.
softly. it moved.
seen from the corner
of an eye. crept
round the edge,
slid round the door
i feel it lives
in the shed.
having looked ,
realise they are just for me.
no submission nor application,
a wise, a brave decision. i have
dreamed of japan, some places
are just too far
looking back i see
the island changed.
perhaps i like familiarity.
the same faces.
some things take longer than others,
oh, these trite sentences we use, yet
maybe this is true. at last i balance,
lock the gates efficiently, not mind
the mirrors, speak respectfully.
some things take time, relax,
find your family. speak carefully.
it was a long evening, programmes
on monsoons, and the ganges.
we fell asleep quickly.
the cat and the installation.
i have spent much time
thinking how it will be, how it may affect
those viewing, carefully sewed
the finger, placed the eggs, the paper parcel.
photographed the thing. that morning, all
was in disarray, the cat sleeping within…..
take care of the small box..
only we don’t talk so.
he said he will by a tank top
for the gig, i though ooh,
how ghastly. he came back
with a vest, black. quite nice.
thats a vest , i says, no he
says, you wear a vest
with a suit, tidy.
he means of course
a waist coat.
he is from ameica.