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| Lunch, George Tooker, 1964, Columbus Museum of Art |
Closing off.
Too near to be close
Too close to be a part.
Heads lowered. Eyes askance.
Regarding none in quiet respect.
No, we mustn't make eye contact.
People of all makes and names
Dine anonymously, disengaged.
Barely noticing what they've in hand.
Scarfing down their lunch,
Never once lifting their face
Not to intrude upon
Too near to be close
Too close to be a part.
Heads lowered. Eyes askance.
Regarding none in quiet respect.
No, we mustn't make eye contact.
People of all makes and names
Dine anonymously, disengaged.
Barely noticing what they've in hand.
Scarfing down their lunch,
Never once lifting their face
Not to intrude upon
another's private space.
No this, would be very rude!
Gatherings as these in the home
bring warmth and light camaraderie.
But in the world, where none are known.
There is this sense of, propriety.
Gatherings as these in the home
bring warmth and light camaraderie.
But in the world, where none are known.
There is this sense of, propriety.
The walls rise up invisibly
as the fence behind,
restrictively.
Fencing off an open view,
Narrow bars of light,
faintly enter through.
A glow of light on an opaque post
barely reflects the ghost
faintly enter through.
A glow of light on an opaque post
barely reflects the ghost
of a man, facing opposite.
O this is the way
O this is the way
in which privacy
is sought and achieved,
is sought and achieved,
Amidst the impersonality
of; the closely departed,
family of man.
