Hindsight
Once, we suspected there was
undiscovered land, but did not
know how much, or where.
Did people live there, spears
and the heavy skins of beasts
we had not seen. What might
they want, that we could offer
them in exchange for their homes
and vegetables and plants and
ways. Gold coins, and medicine,
and gunpowder. We packed
goods without knowing who
we would give them to, hands,
disembodied, reaching out
from the mist. It would be easier
if they were friendly, if we
could tell them our intentions
for them, to find them, to name
them and make them matter,
to live with them and learn
about the land so we’d know how
to take it and turn it into home.
To think 2 tons of glass and 420 hours went into that art installation; it's an amazing piece.
ReplyDeleteYeah, the dominant class is pretty clueless, as you slyly suggest. Fortunately the savages had already gotten the memo.
ReplyDeleteBTW that installation is a total antidote to the Whitney Biennial.
I love this poem and I think I see a connection in the shattered glass of that image. Good one Hannah.
ReplyDelete