Museum of Broken Relationships
I read that L.A.
is opening a Museum of Broken
Relationships .
Here the artists of romance can donate the relics
of a union that to them was surely more perfect
than any work of art, but now these objects
they lay in the hallway, covered by black cloth
out of respect or mourning - who cares
if the beloved have stopped coming.
This time instead of the effigy burning
before the attic seals them in dust
lets put them behind glass tombs to
preserve the emotional history of us:
The first record you lent me,
the button you promised to sew,
your chapstick - the one I always stole…
No! For my submission —
I’ll need a large empty warehouse.
There I’ll resurrect the old barn
and sunlight must streak down
to that spot on the ground
where our bodies were resting
side by side in the quiet,
feeling the warmth soak our skin
when you kissed me and (gross)
I tasted the cigarettes we’d smoked
back at your parent’s house.
the two of us on our backs
our bodies humming a song,
‘Should have known right then
it was too good to last
It’s such a drag when you live in the past.’
We won’t be there of course
for the installation’s unveiling.
All that the visitors will see
is an old brown barn hastily
constructed, easy to tear down.
The spotlight will hit cold white ground
and the plaque nearby will read:
“Counterfeit; from the artist’s private collection”
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