| [00:10.65] |
When I walk out of the museum |
| [00:15.07] |
The wall of sudden light makes me crinkle up my nose |
| [00:24.42] |
And standing, coat half on, between marble columns |
| [00:30.05] |
I sneeze into the wind |
| [00:32.41] |
|
| [00:34.30] |
When I walk out of the museum |
| [00:38.71] |
I have centuries of dust behind my eyes |
| [00:44.92] |
I hunch a little bit |
| [00:48.29] |
From the culminated weight of all these other peoples' ideas |
| [00:54.30] |
I see a tipped over garbage can blowing in the street |
| [00:59.10] |
|
| [01:03.31] |
When I walk out of the museum |
| [01:07.35] |
I think about a snorkeler surfacing tangled in kelp |
| [01:15.00] |
That is me: writhing, wild attention, glancing around |
| [01:22.88] |
The huge museum doors behind me slam |
| [01:28.83] |
And I flinch |
| [01:30.44] |
|
| [01:31.94] |
In all of these brief flashes of momentary clarity |
| [01:37.70] |
The emptiness that cuts through is like |
| [01:43.54] |
A bowl beneath the sky |
| [01:48.88] |
Empty, not yet pregnant |
| [01:53.89] |
Fertile, without form |
| [01:58.21] |
It terrifies me, the raw possibility |
| [02:03.54] |
And I want to go back inside |
| [02:07.37] |
But when I walk out of the museum |
| [02:12.39] |
Everything I see seems rippling and alive |
| [02:17.87] |
On a freezing January day |
| [02:21.95] |
Everything: |
| [02:23.27] |
The museum |
| [02:24.82] |
And the garbage |
| [02:26.57] |
And the internet |
| [02:28.17] |
And the constellations |
| [02:29.96] |
All collapse into a heap |
| [02:35.11] |
And light floods out |
| [02:39.43] |
From this compost pile |
