The Commission Drafts The Exhibit
Untitled
If I were commissioned to fill the Turbine Hall
I’d install my unseen drafts.
There’d be enough tattered scraps of paper
To metaphorically drown in.
People could lie down
Like hamsters in bedding –
Nestle into my 5am half-thoughts
And derivative epiphanies,
While somewhere to the side
I’d die quietly of embarrassment
And finally get some peace.
