From Imaginary Museum Poems on Art

Matisse Replies to Snodgrass: A Poem About a Poem About a Painting

His mind turned in in concentrated fury,
Till he sank . . . 
His own room drank him.
 - - W. D. Snodgrass, "Matisse: "The Red Studio"

Looking into my red studio,
were you surprised to find no one there?

Calm yourself, my friend, I was only out
of sight, preparing the space for visitors.

Since I am not a part of what I see,
I leave myself unframed.  Do you undersstand?

This room is decorated for pleasure,
colored warm to comfort your needled heart.

My art is an embrace, not a devour.
Come inside.  A painted chair awaits you.

I will be there.  Together we will share
a refreshing drink of my bright scarlet air.

by Joseph Stanton