Visiting grand houses…

unfinished carving, mount stuart

 

National Trust

 

The door opened and the guide whispered us in

So as not to wake these pampered stones from sleeping

We complied –

Cowed by brass lions

Overcome by intricately carved columns

Hardly daring to step from our shadow

Into gilded light

 

‘Take no photographs’

I wondered why?

Might each impudent proletarian pixel

Pick away the privilege from these old walls?

Might the old masters be blinded in a flash?

 

So we shuffled like deep sea divers

Following monotone stories of accumulation

 

Despite my love of the shape of things, I found myself repelled

This was never a home

It was a machine that enslaved people

Every stone was stolen

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