At the bottom of the painting,
write any word (for instance, “mother.”)
Now wait for more words, more names, for requests or invocations, to
fill the perimeter of the frame.
As in nebulous blooms of mold that featured, like repeats
of the Great Wave, coursing backwards,
forwards, inwards & outwards over
the studio walls and ceiling.
Left overs of Christmas virtuosity:
an entire orange
in one go.
A picture’s virtuosity is in its coherent exchange
of one set of values, known to be valid,
for another as yet un-
known & unvalued.
Old lenses seek or find finite space.
Drop off clothes, drop off recycling, stack clean
bottles by the edge of the recycling bin in
case the old man is there, watching from his car.
Space fills up with sounds like water plunging into a glass.
The yard fills up with light. The clothes fill up with person. The bed
fills up with lint, dust and dried skin. The follicles fill up with adverbs until
the scalp fills up with nectar…
The relics will never fill up
with veneration; it settles around,
on top of and under-
Bubbles in old
glass windows travel
towards you at
the speed of landscape.
A body in a cold room,
under a sheet or in the back
of a car, minds or is minded, sews
confusion among the living.
the coffee table, the dinner table,
the air implicated
in invisible smoking.
Add one cup of coffee to zero cigarettes to equal minutes of acquaintanceship.
The basement’s full of traps we must check on soon; meanwhile, old clothes
threaten to turn you into a new old person,
providential for painting.
Swimming, painting, soldiering, writing, smoking
or going to museums: things
he did that required a
degree of strength.
Frames (part 6)
1 November 2014