Similar to the other piece I have involving a white square and a black square — this one feels a bit more personal, and there is more of myself in these shapes.
black square on white
My generation is made up entirely of pixels.
Tiny squares of varying intensities
which together, and only together,
have clarity.
Here is one black square suspended before
a white background. Somewhere there is an old
family photo – Pixel sits on Malevich’s shoulders,
blinking vacantly through trifocals.
A rift in the sheet, a rip in the neat.
Dimensions stutter and start counting heads,
and the context alone is enough to stifle
the desire to understand. Slipping slow
and timeless through that static canvas,
I resent my own hands as they
pull me back.
---
white square on black
I resent the longing that threads itself
through the atoms of my eyes when I stare
at a white square on black. Instinct forces me
to squeeze my sloppy frame through
that dying window in the dark.
I resent the lack of control I have over
that human knack for feeling
significant, though even this simple
shape remains wrapped around me long
after I leave it.