From A Blank Room

chairs don’t appeal to apples

or sharks or spoons or gators,

yet women and men and girls and boys

will defend those blue or black or green chairs

eleven or twelve times over.

 

chairs or frames or flags or panes "

it doesn’t matter.

what does a shark or a gator care about?

even better, what does a ripe apple or a silver spoon care about?

I want to know like I know loneliness.

I need to grasp like I grasp chairhood

only more deeply and with less meaning.

boys and men adjust their white collars and striped ties

while women and girls hold down their flowing skirts in the summer gusts,

but what of scissors and water and wine bottles and paper and curtains?

do they wonder?

my questions are merely musings in disguise "

a decoy from the deeper…

 

depth

the human invention

rated arbitrarily like everything else

blue chairs

apples

sharks

spoons

what are they " are we " but a gust among infinite gusts

 

This is not a question.