La Fenetre's Summer Magic issue came out a few days ago, with my poem, Fans of Dali, in it.
[Link to the poem].
Fans of Dali
Dali doesn't need us. Doesn't need
our awe or our excitement at being
amongst his pieces in London or
St Petersburg. His clocks will melt
whether we watch the time or not,
his rose will hang in wonder
whether we press our breath
in the empty space between it
and the sand plains underneath.
Dali doesn't need us looking
into the shadows of his self-portrait
or testing the strength of the sticks
holding up his dream.
Dali knows that he doesn't need
us like we need him, and that
no matter what he does, his art
drips its way into our hearts
and like his clocks, melts and forms
around our thud. thud. thud.
The world has their clocks, and most
go on daylight savings, ever-changing.
We have our clocks. They're Dali,
and they're everlasting.
© 2007 Laala Kashef Alghata
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