At the MoMA

by Robert Lloyd Jaffe

Behind the glass they stood
An old typewriter, a metal eyelet, turned bolt,
A giant and sculptured bearing;
monuments to engineered art.
Those artifacts intrigue,
and pull my eyes from the walls
covered in paintings
of endless horizons.
My wife, who notices,
says I love the machine.
That metal eyelet lets me tie my boot,
that bearing holds the propeller,
that bolt holds the shaking tiller.
I need that boot
to grab the brown and white crags,
the propeller to sail the blue sky,
the tiller to fight the tack
across space to the endless horizon;
and the typewriter,
to do the same
for time.

Robert Lloyd Jaffe's picture

I am an observer and listener of the music of life. Where I find cadence, I find my interest and passion directed. It can be sound, light, smell, or purely an experience of thought. The sky, the sea, the mountains, and the machines that allow me to explore those places draw my attention, and give me serenity.

Last updated May 06, 2016