Poetry

I get paid well for this job

I get paid well for this job
of looking after art objects

that don’t breathe, don’t complain,
don’t have wet eyes, or the fear of eternity;

that don’t need to be consoled,
and don’t need to be told an answer
as to why no one has visited them today.

The paintings don’t want to run away.
The sculptures don’t need to be washed
every other day.

You don’t have to assure the photograph
of the woman that she looks good.
You don’t have to brush her hair,
clip her toenails, or stroke her hand.

And when art leaves the building
there’s no sadness,
there’s no need to explain
to anyone what happened.

There are no terrible conversations
with people who want a reason,
who want to know why.

You don’t have to know much
looking after art,
just about any answer will do.

I get paid well
for making sure art
is seen in the best light.

It’s important
 that we know art
is being cared for,
that it’s appreciated.

And is there
anything wrong with that?

Published in 4th Floor Literary Journal, 2013. 
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