All of these were at the Tate;
I know they were, for I took notes.
The plaster cast of an empty space;
View of the Thames, with Pleasure Boats.
I know they were (for I took notes)
on open view, but Art? Well, maybe.
View of the Thames, with Pleasure Boats;
Mother Feeding Crying Baby
on open view, but Art? Well, maybe,
- unless they take me for a fool.
Mother Feeding Crying Baby;
Man in Orange Shirt, on Stool.
- Unless they take me for a fool,
Damien Hirst and Jackson Pollock.
Man in Orange Shirt, on Stool,
saying, “What a load of bollocks! ”
Damien Hirst and Jackson Pollock;
Couple Drinking at a Bar,
saying, “What a load of bollocks,
“A plywood model of a car! ”
Couple Drinking at a Bar;
Monet’s Waterlilies, and
a plywood model of a car;
fruit decaying on a stand.
Monet’s Waterlilies, and
People on an Escalator;
fruit decaying on a stand.
No, skip that one, we’ll come back later.
People on an Escalator;
a film of two men standing still.
No, skip that one; we’ll come back later.
I’m certain that they’ll be there still.
A film of two men standing still;
the plaster cast of an empty space;
I’m certain that they’ll be there still.
All of these were at the Tate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is an epic of a Pantoum, and every single word is necessary. It captures a visit to the Tate Modern perfectly, at the same time bringing a new dimension to the name of Jackson Pollock! A work of modern art in itself S ;)