Gaudy abstracts do nothing for me.
It's that backpack girl, head
between her knees. She must be trying to duck
a seizure, stem an earthquake
in the rock of her beneath her feet.
Vortex. She hunkers down,
a copula of engorged muscle
no one else notices.
Richard George
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-the-hayward-gallery/
