Again and again, the same electric chair
in two-tone panels. Notice how the mood
changes with hue, the placard reads, how bare
black and white affects your attitude

to execution—as opposed to, say,
pink and green. All of them make you feel
guilty, a little queasy. Wander away
to view the Buddhas, crosses, and a steel-

gray self-portrait, diamond-dusted, slick.
Marvel—for you must—at Marilyn,
larger than life, and Jackie—oh, and Mick,
his youthful brooding, his angular chin.

But come away uneasy. While excess
shape-shifts in art's trick mirror, execution
reveals and then conceals—now more, now less—
and the old rogue slips the knot of resolution.

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Antonia Clark, a medical writer by day, works for a medical software company in Burlington, Vermont. She has previously published short stories and essays, has taught creative writing in community college and adult education programs, and is currently co-administrator of an online poetry forum, The Waters. Toni loves French travel, food, and wine, and plays French café music on a sparkly purple accordion.
E-mail: toniclark at earthlink dot net
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kaleidowhirl  |  spring 2007