By the Time You Cut Teeth You Are Already Ancient

All at Once

While traveling in Ireland,

I saw the Cliffs of Moher. 

I saw Killarney Lakes so blue.

I kissed the feet of Oscar Wilde and

donned his holey t-shirt. 

I saw my mother

although I knew it was my father.

She was alive.

She was floating in the Liffey.

I saw my husband beheaded.

I raised an aqua vitae and swallowed a star.

I searched, and became, a dress of saffron.

It hid my child - no dress - a saint was he!

But off the cliff we were pushed willy 

nilly.

I hung with pirates.

They left me their name.

(And I’ve been hanging ever since.)

I’m back in Prussia.

It is Pennsylvania. 

We Neanderthals 

will see 

what we saw in 1972.

MDM 2018

Through a  multi-disciplinary art practice as device for the compression of time,  I hope to squish out pottery shards, striations on kerf walls, circuitry, breath...