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The Commission   Drafts   The Exhibit

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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.

 

 

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