The Middle of Nowhere in Three Parts

June 19, 2013

Part I: A short story.

In the middle of nowhere there is a fine art gallery. From the outside, fine art galleries look like every other building. Buildings here are short and brown and usually display a company logo in large brown letters across the top. I laugh and step out of a car, later to go up in flames (but not right now and I wasn’t there for that, anyway). I feel like a film noir star. I blow cigarette smoke toward passing cars. Have any of them gone to this short brown “FINE ART GALLERY”? Raindrops beat down on an over-sized umbrella. I twirl.

Part II: A short poem

In the middle of nowhere there is a fine art gallery
curated by a balding man
whose skin matches the ugly brown lettering
displayed on his brown FINE ART GALLERY.
The grey room is his past, the white room is a dream.
He sometimes sleeps on a cot in the white room,
furnished with track lighting.
It is important for the white room to stay illuminated.
He does not enter the grey room, but wonders what it is made of.
He watches as his customers exit.
They look frightened except the strange ones
who spray graffiti on the walls.

Part III: A shorter poem.

In the middle of nowhere
there is a fine art gallery
filled with dreams
curated by animals
who dream of running away
and displaying abstract art.

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