I found an object in a location.
So it became my property.
I attached to it a value,
And I discussed it over cakes and tea,
Over cakes and tea.
I have put it in a situation,
Removed its objectivity.
Now my object is a subject:
A testament to creativity,
Its absence causes them perspiration.
They pressure me to name its price.
They don’t understand my object;
They’d have it washed and dried and smelling nice,
Dried and smelling nice.
My object’s not for regeneration.
I have named it “Forget-me-not”.
You can’t pickle it in fluids.
You have to sit and wait and watch it rot,
Wait and watch it rot;
Watch it interact with its surroundings;
Watch its physical make-up change;
Watch your own delayed reactions
Reflect limited emotional range,
I lost an object but found a subject.
I found a way to lose control.
I found a way to lose an audience.
Commission me, I’m on a roll,
Me, I’m on a roll.
Mistaken for art or rubbish