At the Museum

Beginning in still lines and waiting
until finally filing into escalators
of black congruent steps
that lift the lines into other levels
where structure is less important
and groups disperse into other groups
until the lines are only individual dots
that hurry about and busy themselves
with distractions which took years
to create and now get passed
with the slightest degree of appreciation
or regard and every single dot wants
to be here and feel here and see here
and be seen here but hardly any
wants to sacrifice their private
charade and create something
worth more than what is
immediate. And stop taking
photos of the damn Picassos!