Walking Through the Tate Modern on the 4th of July
i risk natural existence.
not a private
art, i am a public
resistance, a moving residence.
these actions of destruction,
whether they be non-nuclear,
or pre-existing,
on placards,
or
in legislation,
i shouldn’t have to tell you:
bodies are not
travel guides.
no such thing as
impermanent defacement.
i can always
buy a new suitcase,
so can you.
but, territory is psychological
only to those on the exterior;
it’s embodied elsewhere.
you can walk past paintings
about 3,000 people killed
in one night.
you think photographs are easy
because you have never
been marked by war.
you think libraries can’t hurt anyone.
you.
moved to New York.
thought life would be like
a Nan Goldin photograph,
when none of your friends
are dead.
bring chaos to the museum.
stack the walls
with change.
destroy the notion of the permanent
collection. edify the halls.
ask whether
it is good design, or
a panopticon.
inculcate the compositions
the layout,
the curation,
with questions.
you have to walk up the stairs
to get to the escalator.
what kind
of metaphor is that?
not a warrior but
a waiter and a little
unemployed, i find frogs
inside people’s hearts
because i am always wanting
to tell my mom
that there were once
days tasting like
carrefour toothpaste
an entire summer
laid flat on my back
watching an angel spin
from a ceiling fan
cliches don’t bother me
but living with what’s lost
does
none of the books
tell you how to distill
the bad days into
phone calls
i am doing alright
tell the neighbors:
i’m doing alright
trying to find joy has
become a full-time job
even still,
it is my days that are
unremarkable
not my life
trapped in this
garbage town
i hold up the alphabet
to my chest
as baby moons
recite their sounds
back
to me
the kisses are recycled and
the cabinets are full
it can’t always be
what has happened
it’s all starting to feel like
snow atop an umbrella
works well enough
but not as intended
Natasha Magallon
Natasha Magallon has performed her work at the Bowery Poetry Club, the Poetry Project, and more than a few dimly lit bars. Her most recent publications can be found in Drafts on Tap’s Crushes, Eleven & a Half Journal, HistoryNet, and her chapbook Mediocre Ballerina Extraordinaire. She is a graduate of the New School where she received a degree in Literary Studies & Fiction Writing. After many years working as a nanny in Manhattan, she now teaches elementary students in Brooklyn.