Wednesday, 16 March 2016

Applause the Eloquence of the Atrocious

“La Femme qui pleure” (The Weeping Woman) by Pablo Picasso (1937)

Roll in the drums on this beautiful night and bash the intestines out of the instruments
Of choice
The buskers of the night are the most desperate
Usually needy
But mostly reckless
A body falls out of a garbage can
Under the vast and cold veil 
The leaves of the century old skeleton 
Becomes a cloak 
An empty laneway is home to more than the silence and the absence of human presence  
A centipede crawls on its hind legs

A few hundred before the fore runners
Chaos as a curse
Born in shoes too large to fit, too many to accompany a leg 
With a shoe
A shoe for a what
As a man with too many opinions is bound to lose
How’s it like
To walk in the shoes of fifty odd pairs 
Or to crunch on the bones of the conquered
What is mercy for the powerful that leaves, the vulnerable seeking the validation 
Of whom

Who is born with the privilege to grant mercy
That when the centipede dies
The spokesman pronounces the old idiom, alive  
From the idiot brain, that seizes the stage
The sight of a catastrophe 
Burdens the public 
Inside the stocking of a generic disposition to display oneself
The old cliché is born
The audience weeps in dysfunctional fits of laughter, for the new-now-old 
Fracture a leg!