The Persistence Of Art

Art persists it isn’t dying not yet anyway it’s still here still a cause for meaning and the search for meaning bankers and lawyers are always looking for loopholes and so are artists they wrestle shadows they echo the unknown they pull it here and shove it into people’s ears and eyes and noses and let it be understood that mass is massive yes but so is the tallow of the ice age caves art began in silence and dark we are surrounded by invisible powers look at the way insistence works crabs walking sideways guitarists bending notes. What is it about art that makes you want to do art is art a power yes I believe there’s power in art just as there’s power in tractors and cows this is me mooing salmon swimming around my knob the bank is opening its doors the tellers are telling jokes the whispers are chisels and there’s chemistry in the exchanges between people once some pain gets here we can talk about supposition and how the imagination opens the eyes peregrines bursting out of a landscape painted in delicate hues nuances of purple and green everything is wildly tangential Franz Marc bends to tie his shoe and there are Bedouins dancing on the dunes Norseman scattering runes the language of art bears the sparkle of presumption breeds tin and dissonance the heart is a red machine heed its feelings just skim a few pages and see what you need what you’re looking for may be a moment’s notice or an old woman scraping the meaning out of her life with great meditative force and courage. I’m going to start a paradigm now dangle some horses from a balloon words are timeless entities tubs full of laundry men and women in a chronological dance starlings demonstrate the brilliant fluidity of connectedness I’m running on the spars of a ghost ship I’m washing my shirt with a lovely new detergent I wonder how it happens that things arise in the mind Aphrodite rising out of a wave. Here’s a sky put it on do the clouds fit does the air feel good there’s a herd of buffalo grazing on prairie grass fingers are masterpieces of dexterity human biology is not above crawling now and then your slither is titillating we persist in our dream of a future as if the grain were thriving in a delta the murmuring of earth’s vulva turn red with propulsion a bat roars out of its cave hopes are constructions beauty is more than a bar of soap it’s subversive it’s redemptive it’s dangerous and locomotive I sit here in confusion and shiver I have no doubt poetry expands consciousness especially when there’s no other port in sight and the hurricane is coming the winds are spurred by words nobody learns to march in procession without a good reason and yes pears are delicious but some of us are boiling inside pensive like Cézanne on a train gazing at the landscape as it passes by a butterfly on a loaf of sourdough the sky is crying its tears glue the rainforest back together ambiguity gets shiny from swimming a jade bowl brimming with tea reflects the moot investigations of calculus books on a shelf hooves in the rain hope blankets our despair but the temerity of art upturns the cart and we slip on our assumptions and find there is merit in depiction tonics in string.