Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Water tower strip

I have never seen anything like it: a gigantic canvas water tower drape, raised and lowered seemingly on whim.  The workmen are not there every day.  There seems no rhyme or reason to the whole project.  Nor can I see anything that looks like decay, or anything that looks like progress.

It seems
Work is underway
On the water tower,
The one with the big bunch of roses
Painted on the top,
The one next to the train station.
I*m sure if I asked the right person
I would find out just exactly what
The story is.
I never know from day to day
Whether the canvas drape will be pulled
All the way to the top,
Or heaped at the bottom;
It is an almost daily strip-tease.
I never know
Whether workmen will be gathered there
Staring up at the roses,
Talking to one another.
I never know
Whether there are people under the drape
In the dark,
And if there are,
What they do under there.
When the canvas
Reveals all
I see no difference
From the day before.
I*m sure if I asked the right person
I would find out.
Still
It is more interesting
To speculate.

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