March 30, 2005
Museum Ceilings
by Jay Surdukowski
They do not understand all the trouble
that people go through, feeling detached
about the stacks of color squares,
the fussy looks, Gatlin chuckles.
Sometimes someone leans too close.
Sometimes it’s crowded as movies.
Or once in a decade, the brash theft.
The ceiling is comfortable with itself,
the empty where art isn’t.
Jay Surdukowski is a second year law student at the University of Michigan where he is the incoming Managing Editor of the Michigan Journal of International Law. His poetry has appeared in Poet Lore, Bogg, The Iconoclast, and Frogpond and is forthcoming in The Potomac and FRiGG.
