The Real Estate
  • The Real Estate

  • to the seeker all objects
    are lonely and dangerous – Fanny Howe

    I am in a movie of empty rooms
    I am listening to toadflax
    sprout between cracked linoleum

    I am listening to a howling

    it’s like how I remember eating eggs
    to become a person

    you write in oil
    after you write ‘oil’

    the difference between leaving and going:

    I lay my hands on my chest
    turning white as skin peeled
    off my shoulders
    it floats off into the air

    there is no such wind
    that means above me is a house

    but the weather is not the wiser
    smearing the rooms with pale leaves
    all a storm of hands waving and waving

    Adrian Kien

  • 12" x 12"
  • Oil pastel on matboard/wood panel
  • 2012
  • Available for purchase online »