Picasso etc.

I drive through the cloud to the gallery first thing to beat the traffic. make a beeline down the stairs for the closing show before I’m called back home. follow former footsteps down the asphalt, life size replica of liberty’s armpit where the waterfall once spat out headlines. there are gold plated plastic chairs and paintings of sleeping naked figures and Jesus dining in an inner-Melbourne pub. shelves of misshapen vases with hard to read faces made priceless by their potter’s name. I walk round a deflated military tank I’ve seen in photos and a gallery in Sydney. the leather sculpture is to scale and I wonder what it takes to move something so big and precious. visitors talk and take photos to share with the people on their phones. I buy a postcard from the gift shop to send to somebody on mine. back in the car through the cloud in the blink of a light.