National museum

Another day, another interview. Didn’t make a pig’s ear of it.

Lunchtime you stepped out to stroll a few blocks. Found yourself in the airy halls of the National Museum. Stood dwarfed by the skeleton of a mastodon. Barely shoulder-high to a prehistoric bison. Small hairless mammal that you are. Gave you some idea of how dogs and cats and temple macaques view lumbering us.

Stood also inches away from a canvas scored with thick slashes of colour by Vincent Van Gogh: Auvers — Rain. Green wheat fields beginning to show harvest hues. A crow at the centre of the picture just two intersecting stabs of black paint. Rain signified by a few top-to-bottom stripes in the foreground, vaguely slanted. The bars of a cage.

 

Quiet halls

polished stone floors, vaulted ceilings

and artefacts 

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