Wednesday, June 8, 2011

American Pavilion, "Gloria," La Biennale di Venezia

Friendly Skies

Ready? Okay!

The first thing to know is

Welcome and Thank You

and follow my presentation

of this and that.

I spread my chest

and assert with happiness

how grateful I am

to protect you.

Thank You for entrusting

us with your safety.

Prepare for security...

Prepare for lift-off

Prepare to forgetfulness.

Our skies are your futures.

If we never land there

can only be dancing

and movements in space, let

me, hit, this, mark...

As a flight attendant,

I could be a Barbie and

enjoy this simplicity when I wake

in the morning and put on this

crisp cap; well, good morning!

And, how are you today?

Busy, busy, busy...wait. Breathe.

Do, do, do, I respond to you. Stop,

no one is watching, now, I think,

if I preferred not to land,

flying would not feel like death.

June 7, 2011, "Body in Flight" Allora & Calzadilla.


When I use my body to signify

my pride I am its sheath

and it becomes my flag.

I hold myself against the pole

to barrel in wind

and try to suspend

these beliefs.

I balance my weight and restraint

to contain equal measures

of equally spaced pressures,

like atlas straining, or

lady justice, partitioning

lowly, bent over, my

shoulders spread and pour

down my arms because

I am a pinnacle.

I am a point thrown

out into space.

I am at mast, half-

full of death and try-

works, which means

this flag signifies a fiery grasp--

to call out and wave attachment

at loss, to call its name absence--

standing on paradox, half-

raised antonyms, barely

utterable synonyms, to express horses

carrying on around past a tree and freely

by the wayside presidential banner,

did the horses miss their feathers?

Will I ever forget to cease living,

so that ruptures will move me forward

on, over hills and dales, rolling along.

"Half Mast/Full Mast"

Running a War

I saw a man on a treadmill.

He moved the tracks around wheels (the kind

used in war are not the same; they are encased

by three, like a triangle to avoid death

rocks that tip heavy objects who didn't

make their way) and chugged

the upside-down tank; until,

like an earthworm, oil and a sense

of liberation removed itself from its trailing hose.

"Track and Field"