April 9, 2020Poem
On a flat screen
musicidentity
On a flat screen
He held a single piece of grass
In one hand
I wondered what
He had been thinking
Gazing off to one side
Did he know the camera was pointing
Compose a moment for himself
A look so deeply enigmatic
Caught in abstraction
How much thought
Was brought to bear
On the moment I compare
To ‘The Thinker’ of Rodin
Waiting at the gates of hell
What divine a comedy
Might be derived from
This contemplative primate
His innocence invaded
Informed consent surmised
In acquiescence
Should he turn again
This way now
To face me
Look me in the eye
And say
‘Who am I to you
What brings you back this way?’
How will I react
What will be the nature
Of my surprised response
To his next
Un-sculpted act.