At an Exhibition in the WhitneyModern poetry modern verse c

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

When Samaras’s mirrored cube and room

Become the entry to satori, light

Becomes reflected endlessness, a bloom

Towards infinity.  Perhaps a slight

Man steps inside the mirror space and sees

Himself (himself, himself, himself…) repeated on

Without release.  He’s not a Socrates

(Far from it).  Slowly truth begins to dawn

Inside the box.  He realizes that

He doesn’t like the thought of him again, again

In all directions, endlessly.  That’s flat

Out truth hinting psychological pain.

  He steps out from the threatening cube.  Outside

    It he licks gingerly at shattered pride.

~ Phillip Whidden