Reflections on Paintings by Steven Archer.

Reflections on Paintings by Steven Archer.

Tentacled beasts, thousands of eyes,
hearts splayed out on maps
for the world to see:
“Here is my aorta. Here is my soul.”
“Not Special” the sign reads,
Memento Ars: “Remember
you are art. And that you are on
the back of an old textbook.”
Bloody hands and faceless men
playing jacks, dice, cards,
or maybe just
twirling the heavenly spheres.
Monks not bothering to dodge
the rain of arrows:
“Welcome to the Garden of Delights,
heavenly, hellish, earthly.”
Bosch with neon blue hair,
dreadlocks, tattooed arms,
shorter in person than on stage.
His wife another part
of the same inked mirror:
“We heard the click again last night.
We start forgetting
to be scared of walls,
of things in the in between.”
Red flags, veve, La Sirene, Loa, wolves.
The din of crows,
mantras born from fear,
painted animals skulls:
foxes, badgers, coyote.
A wealth of antidepressants.
Everything overflowing with biology:
“I am flooding with your science,
metro nocturnes and hopeful machines,
and likenesses.
Even your serpent totems
are a homage to Crick and Watson.”