3055. CHELSEA ART

Chelsea Art -
with Felicity Goins:
I was the odd man out. I was
the man in the postdated middle
of turmoil and time, the one
spinning in his grave, the onerous
marker of all this percussion.
-
He watches as they all line up to see.
'It's all for you, and it's all for me. There's
nothing to be had from being here, and
nothing to be gained by going : your
bullet to the brain, in fact, having
been quite inconsequential, leaves
you nothing but a standing potted
plant, a stupid lamp, a shade
above your fading head.'
-
And still I've got the magic for you :
the one who peels, the singer who kneels,
the perfidious actor in charge of all those lines,
with his keening and his cries. Really, I want
to hear nothing more at all. Nothing.
-
High above the street, atop heads
of those who speak, the raining
lament falls down to its own and
a silent fate.