To rescue Kahlo from the clutches of the corporate art market, we need to acknowledge the overt and covert political dimensions of the work, demands GAVIN O’TOOLE
England, the Old People’s Home
My mother walks cold corridors, lost
underneath a mask. Bends to do her dirty work,
Picking up white people’s shit.
Not a metaphor, how she feels about this land,
but a turd left on the floor, her duty done with care
as another wreck of bones squats
to release his thoughts about the influx —
Why are there so many blacks?
The mask stops her from howling in response.
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