D‿u‿c‿k‿ ‿B‿i‿l‿l‿e‿d‿ ‿P‿l‿a‿t‿i‿t‿u‿d‿e‿s‿ ‿D‿o‿ ‿N‿o‿t‿ ‿A‿ ‿P‿e‿r‿f‿o‿r‿m‿a‿n‿c‿e‿ ‿A‿r‿t‿i‿s‿t‿ ‿M‿a‿k‿e

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 🦆‎

‎ ‎

‎skin

hair

wine

roses

whispering sands along a beach

‎

nose

thinks

stinks

poses

shimmering deep within our reach

‎

quack quack

‎

I quack this from the restroom wing at the Bad Museum Ad Nauseum with my brand of formal alien chic yet remain still and centered and solid. Not melting into air, rather more lifeless and Zen-like, channeling wooden decoys or miniature amethyst obelisks that anchor maritime legalities aboard a desk jockey’s desk.

I am power within myself!

Said to myself and to those approaching but now avoiding this vaunted wing.

At 4 in the morning, only the custodians are in. I’m a custodian too. Of something or other.

Yet you all have power within you too.

I hear a flush. Someone with a mop pirouettes out the door. Nary enough time for us to lock real eyes, shed our real and unreal uniforms and exist naked with one another, Humans and Human Folly

We Perform Life!

right through the moment where we begin again

someone who loves or even likes us

likes us enough in that moment

enough to touch our hand

Perform a Forgiveness

a Graciousness

a Loveliness

Perform Your Sheer Heart

strong and tender hands

actually nimble and

sweet hands yes

this custodian

hand

‎

This hand

Since being a infant

Your hand has touched everything in Life!

No backwards glances. No whispers nor handbook emergency plans. Just scamperings of creased and stiff uniforms and piston-pumping knees. Outward and Heavenward. Khaki rainbows and wet mops bobbing straight out the door. Alarms beep On beep Off. Keys jingle against glass. Guards take their positions. A guard and a guard dog head towards me.

As seen from a distance, the dog and I leave the guard who is running in place and tumbling in mid air in the middle of a billowing cloud of dog-chewed brochures and paw-torn museum materials.

We look into each other’s eyes, weightless paw in my hand hovering under stained glass sunrise.

My quack quack turns into a beep beep.

I see with pure clarity where my next performance is heading.

‎

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