vernissage

Vernissage (Silver Light)
At the back window the white faces clamour
inside tortured eyes
Self-portraits of madmen
Glimmer in the pools of acid light
Silver rain-drops from a cloudless sky
What am I doing here?
Is this a private view of Hell?
What century is this?
Is this the new Bethlehem?
I understand it all now
the room is empty
No-one lives here
It is a mausoleum
City upon City crumble into rust
Babylons of Rock.
And at the centre
I never thought before of the fire there
At the dead centre
Dig far enough and you will die
A private view of Hell
Why does the barren crowd clamour so
At the black windows?

Christopher Baily
1980s

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