Green Linden Press

Hilma af Klint, Quit It

After The Ten Largest from The Paintings of the Temple, 1907

Alone I’m scrubbing eggs off the pan
When Hilma af Klint rolls out Ten Large
She’s calling me through time and space
From a blue galaxy of paradox with soft edges
Quit it, Hilma! I have stuff to do

Just like that she’s all up in my face 
Circling me with righteous vegetable love
Tying me up in vivid pink plots of abundance
Bobbed on elegant tables of existence
Knock it off, my lady, I’m late for work

Now she throws out a floral net
And thrusts me through orange portals
I think I’m pregnant with primordial critters
Please! I need just one moment to myself
I’ve got to recycle these raspberry seltzer cans 

Those humming pyramids don’t hold back
She calls me all night, she left 100 messages
Radiant lines touching me in the right places
So I leave her a message, Enough, Swedish woman
Go back to painting, give me a break

Yet, she, relentless, tosses out light waves
And fixes reality perfectly with a safety pin
I give up, Hilma af Klint! I will leave town
Swim the Atlantic to kneel at your altar
I’m your priestess now, do it
Show me the secrets of the universe
The ultimate proof of how things work