Articles of clothing
scattered on the hardwood
would seem novel
if everything were novel.
It seems a shame that
silver particles and knowledge
of cameras from Maplethorpe
to Terry Richardson
should coincide with lack of thought.
Age disregards this.
Our rooms disregard this.
Painting here surpasses.
Things on the carpet and concepts.
Wishing that misanthropy
were lovers, wanting
to walk the dark streets
and being tired of the night
and scattered articles of clothing.
