The Pain Gallery

They’ve opened it on the weekend for me.
Closed the blinds, put a slow dirge upon the speakers
as patients skulk in overgrown pajamas; a security guard
is made out of melting wax.
Outside, the lake is larger than it once was, it is a glacier
now
and it’s
tearing apart its white geometry.
Terrible junction of memory and sculpture.
An infant shark
squeezing its gills on a red bed with brass ends,
and a suit that suffocated its man.