Thursday, September 17, 2009


for Tessa Farmer

Hundreds of threatful birds roosting on this ledge
remaining calm while I gently push some aside to collect the beetles thriving in their dirty laundry
But everybody knows that the natural history exhibits come alive at night
secret dawns of the museums
Most have seen at least some time vaguely their dancing their anthropomorphic gestures their suspicious dialogues
the embers of their reawakening like clouds in the long dark blue shadows of museum nights
that indoors sky of stars and its glaciers
naked feet of sparkling wine and cold marble
Many but far from all have seen their great pain
their glass panes shutter their dry throats cough and scream
whirls of bloody threads in sawdust jerking fish
But this pain might not be due to their obvious material bondage
because they might have a large freedom of motion in an adjacent dimension
and their geometrical or natural-like posing may be a rather irrelevant geometrical joke,
not like a round of battleships but rather like an arranged chess problem
a handful of minute forests radially growing
tentacles of unknown fungi the comfort of horror knowledge spilt on the floor
There might be dozens of other reasons for this pain
such as being chased and tormented by small demons human embryos
It might not even be pain at all

Mattias Forshage

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