Josephine Red/Red, 2022/23.
UNTITLED
What made me take this path when there are so many others?
Pale gravel on the left from the Orangerie to the Louvre
Though October promises the winter I want, the sun shines
Spotlighting flower beds that ring as false as stagecraft.
Even we ring false, possessed of everything except
Some ragged piece of puzzle we cannot read:
A blank gray space shaped rather like Italy’s boot
Obscures our view.
But would you lie to me?
Suddenly the last doubt vanishes
The last trembling disbelief is gone.
You turn to me and say, “How lucky we are.”
Ah yes, I think, I could be blind, you could be dead,
And Paris could be burning.
–Barbara Chase-RIboud,
