Part of things miraculously attached,
out of kilter, upside down, out of balance,
the colors not quite matching,
chairs and guitars and rags,
all of it familiar and all of it more than a bit off.
Modern art. A dreamscape.
You wonder what the artist was thinking.
You wonder what the person next to you is thinking,
head tilted, staring for the longest time,
missing the point, that it is not the thought
but the feeling, that unsettleness with common things
that you have felt all too often, meaning of course,
the painting feels all too familiar.
About this poem
My wife and I went to Mass MoCA the other day for an artist’s date last weekend. (that post is coming). I fell in love with this one. Like looking at one of my own, gone wild.