Brancusi Not Hockney
The rain clouds parted and hordes emerged
from far and wide to stand in front of
David Hockney's bright paintings
Stand they did, awaiting entry in a line that
snaked and curled a good hundred plus yards,
not single file, but six abreast.
One might imagine free paintings were being
awarded, but no, and not even free admission.
I pondered how many hours the wait.
Then, having he luxury of coming back
when the galleries will be not so packed,
I left the line and walked a few more steps
And there I had Brancusi to myself.
I was once again in his studio, with no crowd
and no bright colors to dazzle
This time, unlike those many decades ago when I
walked inside his studio among his work and tools,
the studio is surrounded by a glass wall.
Paris 2017 #67