A Glass House In Santiago

I see a picture,
read the text:
a glass house in Santiago,
eight-foot-by-eight-foot,
a Chilean glass box
in which I see a beautiful actress
living her life
an artful experiment
in easy view of public gawking.

A Glass House in Santiago

Bob Komives

She bathes and eats,
eliminates,
shower without curtain,
water closet without closet;
undresses and dresses
without recesses
from which to display her privacy
for public eyes
in city center
with walkers and riders
passing by,
coming to,
and lingering.
I read that she takes in visitors,
but see no mention of her lover.
I read it is a project,
art and science,
an exercise
of freedom
of expression
to measure how we act and feel
about her particular
and our more general
right and respect of privacy.
I value the art,
'wish I were there,
but quibble with the science.
I would build one hundred glass boxes,
she would live beautifully in hers,
a plain person would live in every other,
burning toast,
getting influenza,
a joyful letter,
tragic phone call,
or bad dream
received and tended to
in open view
of people bored enough to watch.
Or, if one hundred is too many,
I suggest they build one more,
just another one beside her,
another glass house
with me inside,
to look her way
for science sake
for facts that prove the obvious.
For this is my hypothesis:
by several standard deviations
and in every respect that occurs,
my glass house of privacy
earns more respect than hers.

Bob Komives :: Fort Collins © 2000 :: A Glass House in Santiago :: 0002