The Contemporary Artist at Work by William Doreski
Following you around the shops
I’m amazed by your grasp of wine,
cheese, birthstones, and rag paper.
You stun the clerks with superior
knowledge of their products, including
wholesale and retail markups
you relate with cold pale scorn.
In the arcade, goatskin handbags
hardly meet your standards. Pricey
evening clothes embarrass themselves
in the ruination of your gaze.
Only the bookshop gets away
without a withering comment
on best-sellers ripe for Christmas.
You bag your purchases in one
large parcel. Outside, winter dusk
pastels the sky. We pause halfway
on the street bridge over the tracks.
As a train approaches at speed
you toss your parcel in front of it.
A burst of pulverized goods
the engine driver probably
didn’t even notice. I stare
at the track where a few wisps
of scrap mark the fatal spot.
You can’t stop smiling. Such a success.
Tomorrow we’ll go shopping again,
this time buying richer goods
like Rolex watches and champagne
and full-length leather underwear.
You’ve devised a new genre:
a happening freshened by force.
It suggests how the universe
formed itself in material angst
only explosions could mollify.
Posted on October 19th 2023