Speeches From A White Cube – Laura


his hand like a hook pulling on all our strings
a dance that comes natural
when we lean in for the unexpected history
an anecdote that will alter our own edges
with its wise placement
through visual accountancy

his hand is only grace
ready to trace the line
through any forgone fall

this is something I could live for
to be wrapped close
like a blanket warmed by the fire
the artist’s presence pays homage to these walls
dripped in this conversation
the people they speak through
the material they possess
is a dance
with orchestral effort
we translate our words into speech
so that this conversation may last

in art
words will alter every rendition to pass
its malleable perimeter remembers each resonance
through voices that ripple in cold air

these speeches will dip their language through the streets
and once an ear is reached
like a summer lake floats its vessel
it will be held forever


About erin bosenberg

This entry was posted in 2013 - 2014 Art Publics & Interruption, Speeches From A White Cube and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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