Reflection On Ghost By Kader Attia At The Saatchi Gallery Poem by C Richard Miles

And there they kneel compliant
These tin-foil, silent
Spectres: hijabbed humanity
Facing east, in humility,
An army of aluminium
But I catch a shimmer of rebellion
As, here and there, I spot
A posture that is not so even as I thought.
Though shiny and regimented,
A hum of individuality lurks unintended
Inside this sanitised, homogenised throng;
It is as if they long
For freedom, but their souls
Are as empty as the holes
In this scintillating sculpture
Evacuated by culture
And they are, at most,
Just ghosts.