Steven Schroeder | Picasso and Chicago
a woman weeping nailed time
and again to the wall of a museum
is the object of this crowd’s gaze
guided by voices to place
the weeping woman
in the body of Picasso
as he is known
now broken into blue rose
periods that correspond to time
lying displaced by dreams of Franco
a room adjacent to a wall of monsters waiting
in labyrinths a table of metamorphoses
occupying space walls define
war after war twisting the woman so
here outside you can see inside
her face. I have chosen
not to connect to the voice that is not here,
triggered by masses laying on hands
holding smartphones to odd mandalas
scattered among objets d’art I
listen to voices in my
own ears
wondering about the shadow of the woman in the plaza
dancing on traces of a war that never ends,
that turns and turns and her tears
nail the soul to the body
gather crowds that have no idea
one might think otherwise.
from we’re open, come in. purple flag | 2014
