Art Guard #2

Five fifty-five, time to leave. Outside, orange sun rolls down, inside a steady, sweet fluorescence. Six oh six, that art comes off the wall to look around. You think art doesn’t like to look at art? Ha. They come to criticize; to proselytize; politicize. The amount they steal? Incredible. Six straight up, you have to leave them to it. There is no wiggle room. This is the high art. Once the hair unfurls, nails kick off, it’s booze, drugs, ogling nude women, stealing a caress at the young, hard men. Fights are not uncommon. You come back at 10. That’s when we open. Won’t see a blear eye anywhere. Nine fifty-nine they jump right back on the walls. These guys are pros.

Merridawn Duckler is a poet, playwright. Runner-up: residency Arizona Poetry Center, judge Farid Matuk. Finalist: Center for Book Arts, Tupelo Press, Sozoplo Fiction Fellowship, Oregon Play Prize. Fellowships/awards: Writers@Work, NEA, Yaddo, Squaw Valley, SLS St. Petersburg, Russia, Southampton Poetry Conference. Editor at Narrative and international philosophy journal Evental Aesthetics.

You can see another poem in 5.1