Dreaming is free

Here's another one I found in my recently excavated journals. There was no date on it but I estimate it to be around 1991.

*     *     *

lotto dreams

The New York Lottery was $33 million dollars.
The night shift word processors all chipped in
because
we hate our lives.

I volunteered to call for the winning numbers
to confirm for all
what we already knew in our hearts:
The continuation of our sorrow.

Prior to dialing
I clandestinely copied the numbers
off of Nancy’s ticket.

After hanging up, I misrepresented to all
the numbers I copied down
as the winning numbers.

Nancy’s face was crimson with joy.
It looked as though she might hemorrhage
so I stopped the masquerade
and revealed
my deception.

Everyone was quite cross with me.
But later that night
Nancy came up and thanked me.
As she explained:
“Now I know how it feels to win millions of dollars.”

*     *     *

 Here's the current installation in the atrium of the Museum of Modern Art.

Some artists work in oils. Some in clay. Some prefer gouache. There's a multitude of mediums to choose from. Can you guess what Wolfgang Laib uses?

This is Pollen from Hazelnut, a site-specific work that's constructed from pollen Laib collected near his home in Germany. It's sifted onto a slab into a fuzzy cube. Mrs. Wife asked how anyone with severe allergies can step into the building without being overwhelmed and I didn't have an answer for her. All I can say is that pollen does not permeate the air.

I love this big, open space. There aren't many like it in Manhattan. I always look forward to seeing what an artist will do when handed the keys to the car, but I was underwhelmed by this. If meh wasn't such a tired, worn out cliché I'd use that, but since I'm above clichés, I won't. It's best to view this from up on high. I had to tamp down an urge to walk through it and leave footprints. Kick up a big yellow cloud. Turn it into a participatory installation.