10 February 2011


Half 2/10

In the gallery there are whispers of revolution
Women in fake fur coats (wouldn’t want to kill
rabbits this year darling) click along trying not
to wince at the penises on display

Gilbert and George (never George and Gilbert)
tower over everything their eyes white dots
and butterfly wings sprout from their shoulders
Their suits are 10 times perfect

You can smell the wet paint and the sky is
trying to get in through the skylight (it is that
time of year) these little hands are tapping out
a Morse on the panes – calling :

We’ve got candy little boy – all kinds of candy
(there is a wind in the rooms)

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