Dark Utterance from a museum bench

it’s been forever
since I don’t give a shit
since I gave a fuck
a perineal in and out

it’s been forever
since the shame coils close to
the shadow of my sacral pump
the fear to the back of my throat
the anger to the lining of my stomach
as if I was fed the intrusion
through my digestive tract
my reproductive organs

when the pelvis is up skull down
primeval dark wisdom pours to my knowing brain

for a moment I am my thigh
ecstatic and high
i know why I am doing this
spreading beyond good and bad
up and down
right and wrong
everything is in relation now

if we were to discuss the art and its purpose right now
what would my orifices be uttering?
invited into the museum
we are so glad to have you perform please don’t touch or move anything

quiet rush of blood                                                     

dizzy inner dialogue of sharp realizations pores of my skin looking at them
them looking at me
mutuality is in the eyes
the holes
the feelings thinking beings
all fakings must have a place within

the guard, known as Wise, is making sure nobody moves or touches me

keeping the visitors safe from themselves

what’s his experience in this place of workship?
what is he thinking?

…………………………………….

text and performance by Melanie Maar, image by Eduardo Pateo at NYC Rubin Museum of Art