Museum Of Our Fading Presence

Museum Of Our Fading Presence

(For Barbara)

"Their ships made a mirage fall,
our ozone crashed about our ears and we stood
mesmerised in all that falling light.”
—Lisa Gorton, "III Evolution, 3000"

our museum
is already
being built
with artefacts of
our art and
our inhumanity
our fragility and
our cruelty
our passion and
our hate

what if in
a distant future
the visitors
will arrive

walking into
the trap of
our past

looking for
proof of
our existence

searching for
clues to answer
the question


the visitors
a woman
a child
a man

(I am not sure
who is who)

perhaps they are
holding hands
walking through
the museum of
our fading

animated images
staring at them
will speak for

they will watch
at its best
at its worst

they will watch
empty streets
all the lights
are green
no traffic
to stop

they will watch
empty playgrounds
all the swings
are silent
no children
to play

a child
will ask
a woman or a man
a mother or a father

(I am not sure
who is who)

why did they
do nothing
to stop
you and I
will not be there
to explain
and even if
we could
would they

will they visit
the art museums
now deserted
by meaning

was art
our excuse for
doing nothing
to stop

was art
a symptom
of our

Kylie Supski, 2020, Melbourne

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