Cold War Artist
COLD WAR ARTIST
The art of such intention is fatigue
At living lies outside the scope of death,
To wear in the last blitzkrieg
A shroud meaning artist, a wreath
Of columbine in the hair, but the kitchen eyes,
Carbuncled knees betray the giver’s art.
Down on the doorstep, she’ll scrub your lies:
To her gift of total self she’ll add a part -
Your own tongue sliced and severed on her plate
Of 20th century design – taste
The dust of pointillism, the cubist fate
Of newspaper and cello here embraced –
The emptiness filched from the master’s past:
Mankind’s death wishes, home to roost at last.
1964-1987
published IN MEMORY OF HER, Dublin, 2008
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