Explosions of colour
In the monochromacity
Of the modern art room
At the Tate Britain
I sit and stare
As Titian hair atop
A riot of pink and green
Flounces past a
Barbara Hepworth
Pausing only to consider
Her own reflection
In a Modigliani
The shallow curves
Of a polished surface
Echo the movement
Of our livelier exhibits
shallow
Chatting in miniature
It’s not so much small talk, as chatting in miniature.
People skim over the dangerous depths.
Shallowness gives us a far brighter outlook
Thus we pass the time without causing regrets.
So listen, my dears, not to what I am saying
But rather the tone of my voice as I speak
Exclaiming with interest at gloomy weather
For only the seventeenth time this week.
Katherine Shirley 