From TOTEM, Literature and Art at Caltech



D.M. Solis

How like the clouds he moves
each turn floating
into the next...

who randomly appears
wearing an orange backpack
like an afterthought…

riding a bicycle through
my courtyard
in a soft clay-scented rain…

holding open and aloft
a big green umbrella
as if it could be a sail…

grinning up at himself
from his reflection
in mirror-pools on the ground…

gliding wide…easy…circles
almost without a sound
but for a dull rhythmic whirrrrrrr

when a tire rubs the frame.

I was just sitting there, minding my own business, reading the paper, having a cup of coffee. And out of the nameless nothingness and nowhere, "art" meandered by. Creative "Art Spirits" are the same as anyone else...we just happen to pay attention...and sometimes we write it down. We can't help ourselves. Besides, it's not "nothingness," it's not "nowhere."