after “Semejanza Inexacta,” intstallation art by Francisco Peró
Their legs apart or snug as one,
Shoulders angular in fat,
Fishing line a barely catching thing.
The sun into the underground
Cuts their edges, etches each form
As they twist slowly in the AC.
The borders cross their bodies
The streets of their arms
Ruta Cinco in yellow
I-95 in red
National Trunk Highway in black
All catching the morning glare,
Reflecting museum-goers’ mutters.