A Visit To A Museum
A stream of aged art-lovers
predominantly dressed in white
snakes down to a beautiful museum
shimmering in the morning sunlight.
Like a hexagonal spaceship
parked on the edge of a wood
it offers an austere welcome
to members of a select club.
Where art is the leisure-time preserve
of the cultured chattering classes
who follow the museum’s narrative
on mobile phones and through fancy glasses.
In pursuit of beauty and meaning
in a white marble interior
the oldest among them fear they are
intellectually inferior.
Huge canvasses on bigger walls
intimidate, engulf, and astound
creating an art mausoleum
where the gallery freeze can be found.
Where modern art is an experiment
with shapes being changed into words
writ large in stunning colours
and long lines of powerful free verse.
Paintings full o of statuesque letters
challenge viewers to take a fresh look,
shedding habit’s philistine fetters
and binning explanatory art books.
Brushstrokes without punctuation
dare viewers to give meaning and sense
to crowning art’s justification
at artistic freedom’s expense.
Question marks pop up in strange places,
casting light into creation’s dark work
sketching incomprehension on faces
like mourners as they leave church.
While outside, a breeze ripples
through the glistening leaves
better than any painting are
the gloriously green linden trees
