In the Room of My Ribs, Matisse’s The Dance
And if The Dance is behind my sternum, then too, the museum café
and its yellow long tables like the dashed map of a walk.
And if the café, then also my number
vibrates on its metal stand
until food is brought and the number removed.
The Chair at the End of the Video
If you clicked in just then, you wouldn’t know
if they were about to sit, had just got up, or if
the chair had been empty a long time.
The chair as if at the turn of a path,
like an invitation to rest in the spot they’d left,
to look where they’d been looking,
at the mechanics of it all, the mic
behind the vase of dahlias, the tripod-legs
tied with string to thick books.
The chair in the clearing, the sun
of a slanting afternoon. With no one sitting,
the seat-fabric visible, stripes of blue roosters,
the bentwood back visible, full fleur-de-lis.
The living room dappling
like dragonfly wings, a glittering
meadow with a chair in it,
then a hand blurred close,
the square blipped black,
and we were given the choice to replay
or watch what would be up next.
—————
Molly Tenenbaum is the author of five books of poems, most recently The Arborists (forthcoming March 2023, MoonPath Press); Mytheria (Two Sylvias, 2017); and The Cupboard Artist (Floating Bridge, 2012). Her chapbook/artist book, Exercises to Free the Tongue (2014), a collaboration with artist Ellen Ziegler, combines poems with archival materials about her vaudeville ventriloquist grandparents. Her recordings of old-time Appalachian banjo are Instead of a Pony and Goose & Gander. She lives in Seattle, having taught English at North Seattle College for 30+ years, currently teaching music in the backyard and at Dusty Strings Music School. Find her at www.mollytenenbaum.com.