Contemplating the development of cubism from an altitude of 32,000 feet and an air speed of 625 miles-per-hour Ogling her soft geometries through the frosty port six miles up, puts me in mind of whirling through the sculpture garden of the Kröller-Müller Museum near mid-winter closing time, searching for angles and views of a body that seems to be moving, or is it me? - circling her from more than one angle, a plane revolving through the floating world at rest, now describing a three-quarter rear section, suggesting the beginning of an intention to arise, spin out from the start of the span of seventy-five years when the kinetic charge released by Lipchitz leaves me his nude about to take her body off. In Staple Magazine 71, April 2009 [Back to Poems]