The creaking door intrudes upon our silence.
Caught by a wilful eddy
It swings gently
From its stable state of partial openness;
And sensing opportunity began a
Wider indeterminate momentum
That would, at
Inevitable termination,
Sharply
Demolish that silence
And wreak havoc
On the consciousness of unsuspecting
Humans.
I was at the opposite corner: cross-legged on a table;
Stretching out insipient arthritic pain into
Reborn-life-conscious
Only
Of the crowded room: the rhythmic breath;
All present hunched
In twisted and
Distorted
Shapes, across
Self-absorbing texts:
Engrossed-in-Visual-Art-Culture-Studies-Two-Paper-1
Before awareness becomes thought becomes action
A lastcreakquickeningwhooshofsprightlybreezeand
The heavy reinforced door crashes
Full circle
Against its own
Unyielding backstop;
Reverberateswithobsceneurgency
Across the silent schoolyard:
Bringing sound to visual literacy.
In front of me a head rears sharply up and
Back
Eyes rolling, flashing in desperate
Pursuit
Seekingthechanceescapingthought:
That fragile line;
Aching
Despairingtohold
The image, that shreddedasit
Scattered.
‘Open or closed?’ I asked the room while
I threaded
Across
The cluttered space
To catch the door before there was more
And the echo died
Andrelieffollowedshock.
Closed: came a voice.
The room sighed.
Closed it became.
NiK[07]