Yesterday
by Odin Roark

Economic times rendered art school
A thing of the past
For now…

Art museum guard he was
MOMA had become his home
With perks for him alone

Oh how he coveted “installation floor” assignment
That realm of passion
So instantly accessible
So readily animate
So much his surreal identity

Exhibition “Garage” was special
Each day at closing time
He would slip inside
Grasping another day’s sensory-panacea
Where 3-in-One Oil
Musty wipe cloths
Decaying tire rubber
Dust of decades past
Roused reverie he maintained perpetual

Here was his father
An artist’s unintended creation
The arms
Legs
Muscles
And blood flow
Of memory’s living expression
Existence exhumed from the heart
Inherited breath so precious
Determined to never die

Such became the young man’s discovery
Past
Present
And future
A circuitous journey
Repaved with the oneness of now