The Platform of Absolute Rest . . .
. . . from which to measure the world
in a completely objective way
is what Newton called it,
but there's no such thing.
Blake told us to beware of such one-eyed vision
and then, finally, Einstein asked what the world would look like from astride a beam of light.
On EinsteinÆs train, going at light-speed,
you could see all sides of an object at once.
Picasso knew this, and Marinetti (known as ôthe caffeine of Europeö!)
said paint the future, stop painting the past.
I want to do both.
Traveling with light, so furiously joyously incomprehensively fast,
the present dilates, so that all that was and will be
is contained in that moment.
A Nude was, is, and will be descending the staircase . . .
I heard they wouldn't let pregnant women into such exhibitions,
for fear that such paintings could cause miscarriages.
Please, put me on Einstein's train.
Let me look out the window.
I need to see all sides of everything at once,
I need to get my naked, fast, and fallen self down the damn stairs and out the door.
There is so much I need to mis-carry,
so much I need to let go.
