California Art Collector
What I have collected I have collected for you, my love,
however, before I die, I wish to bequeath my priceless collection
to the poor - whom I love almost as much as I love you.
Life happens as a series of epiphanies. For instance,
on waking this morning, I knew what I must do.
Do something now, I thought, don’t do it for posterity,
now is about to happen, now is almost upon us,
the immediate future groans
imperceptibly, impatiently beckoning us just off the page,
live in the moment, your tears belong to the past.
I possess treasures that beggar the imagination, stupendous
artifacts, all of it quite meaningless until this morning.
To spend a lifetime collecting without sharing is nothing
less than futile. Come into my house now. Tear down the doors
with your bare hands. Take what you will. I am reborn.
I feel like Krupskaya feeding the ragged children inside the Winter Palace.
I wonder what you will make of my Rothkos and Pollocks,
they are yours now, do with them what you will. I always
had a sneaking feeling that art belonged to the people.
Mark A. Murphy
This piece is from the poet's manuscript, Our Little Bit Of Immortality, poems inspired by David Hockney's artwork.
Mark A. Murphy was born in West Yorkshire in 1969. He has been published in over 180 journals and ezines. His first collection, Tin Cat Alley was published in 1996. His next collection, Night Wanderer’s Plea is due out this September from Waterloo Press in the UK.
The Ekphrastic Review
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