Art History: That Murals Are Ongoing Projects
Ed Skoog

The background elements: note them.
Icicles, flames, the zigzag
that could be fissures in ice, or lightning:
write down your impressions.
I'm sorry that we got started so late, Grace.
You're "a trooper" for staying.
Yes, we're starting with the background
of the mural because it's the field
where the figures play out their struggles.
Note this: the several artists
put the horizon there, the reduced skirmishes
between owls and girls with rakes
loping over the line into undrawn invisibility.
So the field has holes in it.
These other figures seem cut-out, don't they?
The horsemen, the headless.
Yes, it is like the artists just pasted them up,
but how about "plugged-in,"
as the verb? Since they seem electrified, almost
alive in the mural's dead span.
The library's about to close, I know. I can hear.
Here are the main points to believe:
the mural is trying to make you die courageously;
its placement in the national library
is random; the curtain they are pulling across
the famous length
is not really made of human skin, as has been written.
Your mother is pulling a bag
up the stairs. By the way, the artists were savages.
Did you know that? Found them
on an isle. The chancellor ferried them to university
and set them loose with steak knives.
After carving up the painting faculty, they began
this serious and important work.
I was one of the savages, though not so much savage
as self-taught, curious, severe.
That mouse is mine, down by the horse's hoof,
see? Let me lift the curtain.
The lights are going down. Your mother stands
at the door, her check for our visit
sweaty in her hand. But have more to teach you,
Grace. Will you listen? Will
you hear as I take my paint from this vein,
despite your slight sting,
your arch and shudder? Librarian, come quickly,
jangle your keys. There's more
I'd like to show my student tonight, the bronze
miniatures in the basement,
the frescoes we hid behind the new wing's mortar.

© 2002 Ed Skoog