Lauren Camp | Flat Statement

Flat Statement 

          For Agnes Martin 

Every part of a line is stripped 

          from demands 

and the devotion
          means laying bare 

to the score
          of drift, shiver, 

possession, unreeling. Day begins 

          in the desert 

with its discipline and wells 

          to the high point 

of stones in cinnamon
          light, layering toughened 

history over
          a region of equivocal 

shelter. She won’t draw 

          this or the sun 

defending low
          weeds, won’t look 

to calculate a sensible
          landscape, each variation, 

or even the shape
          of a mother, an abandonment 

that should have 

          been dwelling 

rather than claw. In the desert, 

          if you wander 

far enough, you’ll find
          an abyss and she won’t 

be there
          either, won’t boundary 

out to true
          black. She’ll tell you 

flat out, she isn’t
          showing you any part 

of the whole upturned 

          earth or the light 

that might appear 

          stretched out 

around her, needing 

           to be seen, to make a mark.