‘when[ever] I draw or sculpt or paint a head from memory it always turns out to be more or less Diego’s…’
Giacometti etd in. James Lord, A Giacometti Portrait (New York: The Museum of Modern Art, circa 1964), p. 24.
Brother, in dreams I meet you in the hallway in Paris
and the floor angles like the side of our mountain.
Under my doorway, the light I’ve lit since Venice
washes the ground more than Annette does.
When you lost your fingers the sun fell like this-
an anesthetic against darkness. You never cried.
Every night before I meet you I put my socks and shoes
in order. I can’t make do without this. I sculpt
the spaces where the seams meet, I need
to be able to count the stitches. When I greet you here
you raise a hand and it’s whole. Outside the window
I can hear the bombs coming like the footsteps
of the Green Witch. I won’t sleep long now.
In response to Head of Diego by Alberto Giacometti, 1950, Medium: Painted bronze,
Dimensions:127.9 x 10.2 x 8.9 cm.
1 March 2017