Art Exhibition


The egg box was so sculptural,

a mirror of life in textured paper,

almost a work of art.

And then I remembered the glasses

left behind in a museum of modern art

by error or intent,

real glasses,

not the “ne sont pas les lunettes”

Magrittean sort,

I could feel some guerrilla art hatching

as I ate a white chocolate egg

and resisted the other.


I made my way to the Art Gallery

and placed the egg box on a table,

between the other exhibits

and opened it to show

the Magrittean egg inside.


Just the one egg seemed most fitting

especially since I’d eaten the rest.

I had already written the title card.

But such a work deserved two titles

one above and one below the artist’s name,

my name, of course.

First came: “THIS IS NOT AN EGG”

and underneath:

“THIS IS NOT AN EXHIBIT”

It was perfectly placed

and looked magnificently subversively ironic.

I think Magritte would be proud of my effort.


And now I must wait

to see if anyone notices.




https://publicreverie.com/three-poems-on-art-by-lynn-white/

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