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Wednesday, May 21, 2008

A Statue of The Red Queen

what can I carve out of wax of time?
a block within which beautiful fractures resolve
the worst sort of ugly, evil tensions

as fleshy fillets fall away from my hot knife
and I step out
there are few ways to place my feet
to dance

warm tools of beauty
all the care of love
have been put in to me
there's no clear path to art.

carving or hacking
dancing or limping
"not waving, drowning"
"all the running you can do, to keep in the same place."
quoting or writing

who's ever remarked "what a beautiful candle wick"?
but what it can do
who's ever mourned the lost wax for the bronze?
but what it has given
who would ever hang the artist's palate?
but what it has held

there are so many ways
so few to art
and none to waste

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