The Ides of March Journal
April 15, 1924:
gets a new direction: maps
by Rand McNally.
Featured in this Issue, culled from 11 possible submissions:
---"Genevieve Habert Discovers Le Bateau is Hung Upside-Down"
---"Athena and Theseus May Have Met"
---"Pulling the Wool"
---"A Mob in Egypt"
"Genevieve Habert Discovers Le Bateau is Hung Upside-Down"
---By Zann Carter
For 47 days in 1961 in the museum of Modern Art,
Le Bateau, a 1953 paper-cut by the elderly Henri Matisse hung
Genevieve Habert, a New York stockbroker originally
from France, visited the exhibit three times
and became convinced of it.
'Because," she said, "Matisse would never
put the main, more complex motif on the bottom
and the lesser motif on top."
She informed a guard who said all the experts
were home for the weekend and didn't bother
to take a message.
But Genevieve, a more complex motif, contacted the New York Times
who contacted MOMA's art director who ordered
a proper rehanging.
He broke into my house, my only
solace; rained down in gold and
took the form of my husband--
for this they took me and threw
me to the sea; they only remember
my son Perseus, the hero, but they
forget me; let my memories yellow
like my bones lost to the sea--
I know they call it adultery, but
how could I be blamed for what the
king of the gods decided to do to me?
I cannot help but think that this is
unfair judgement, something that
ought not have been brought forth
upon me, in a dance of autumn leaves.
"Athena and Theseus May Have Met"
Thank the curating gods,
the title plaque names them,
their heads missing from cracked
frozen fragmented frieze.
We modern docents wondered.
Athena's tough marble garlands
drape her square hollowed waist:
the site of ancient hardware.
Bon Voyage to Theseus' torso
wedged to the wall with one killer bicep.
They extend what's left of limbs,
reach to tap nubs,
exchange an airy message.
The code erodes,
atom by unrequited atom.
"Pulling the Wool"
Irish raiders flew across the waves
in curraghs of animal hides;
Keen eyes in the keening gale,
claiming the offspring of Britain,
bearing away thousands,
including Patrick, who tended sheep
and pondered divinity
on the lonely slopes of Antrim,
perhaps arriving at faith through
lack of any alternative hope.
Extremity requires monolithic allies,
or at least a less temporal master
with a different sort of sheep.
"A Mob in Egypt"
the mobs say,
get out of the way,
our time in the sun,
has only begun,
the faith is ours,
as is strength of will,
let us walk in the sun,
as the storm clouds build,
and the Egyptian army plans.
" Van Gogh"
The soul arches on the canvas,
or deep ocean blue,
each and every brush stroke,
until nothing left,