A Room Where It Always Rains

The arrangement of these immobile bronze figures
by Juan Muñoz substantiates the leap from one
perspective to another. The gaps, with vigor,
insist that where we stand is exactly the same
as the distance we stand apart. And who’s to blame?
Ideology demands a certain rigor:
Does this explain why we’re more anxious to enter
the cage than they appear desperate to escape?
Look at the dead leaves, soaked, soggy, lumped at center;
Would you say they’ve lost the privilege or the will
to come and go as they please? Right here, the truth spills
over, so much so that it’s absurd to deny;
yet we do with increasingly perilous lies.