Fifteen Minutes of Fame / Ten Plus Years Making a Good Living
I spent my fifteen minutes
on handmade paper
kimonos and fans shown at
galleries run by men who
would fall in the first round
of a new and deadly affliction.
Other galleries also shut
their doors long ago,
for other reasons.
So, my quarter hour slipped away,
as it does any way,
leaving ghosts
of the handmade paper
kimonos and fans in the
odd museum or on eBay.
The art, in small letters,
remains in drawers, as old
VHS tapes upon a closet shelf.
I am transferring my tapes
to the Cloud and onto
large old-fashioned canvas.
Perhaps some curious curator
will open a drawer at the Met,
or Brooklyn Museum,
where my prints snore.
There is no iron clad rule
that we get but one
fifteen minute time slot.
It was only something
Andy Warhol put into words
in 1968.
Comments
Post a Comment