See You in the Dark: Poems

The Second Grade Visits the Art Museum

29 THE SECOND GRADE VISITS THE ART MUSEUM They shambled in, a flock of sweet disheveled sheep, herded to the water lilies. “See this picture?” said the teacher. “It was painted by a man who lived long ago, his name was Mr. Monet. What do you think that Mr. Monet was thinking when he saw those pretty lily pads?” Ah, Mr. Monet, what were you thinking? Why is the world so overcast with red? My eyes, poor eyes, those wretched cataracts. Please let the light stay light for five more minutes. Tell them, Ms. Teacher, how Mr. Renoir’s fingers were so deformed and stiff from the arthritis, he had to strap the brushes to his hands. Mr. Michelangelo developed a chronic backache from that infernal ceiling, and Mr. Matisse spent his last years sitting in his bed, playing with his scissors and his paste. Mr. Van Gogh suffered in his mind, his ear a holy wound. Tell them that art is hard. It takes the life right out of you, and gives it back in paint, in pain. It’s hard, mes enfants, art is hard. ...