I see Paul Klee has come to my reception <br />Standing hunched off on his own <br />Like a Swiss clockmaker with his thinking eye <br />Approaching the buffet table indirectly <br />In arcs, spins, and repetitive movements <br />Stacking hors d'oeuvres in floral patterns on his plate <br />Eavesdropping on botanists, <br />Astronomers, <br />And musicians <br />Staring down at his food hardly speaking <br />And then only to the servers and guests who <br />Softly collide with him <br />How did he know about this event? <br />Who gave him an invitation? <br />He hasn’t come over to say hello <br />Intent as he is with sending <br />Letters and misplaced directions <br />Floating across the room <br />Flinging arrows and commas<br /><br />Michael Philips<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/paul-klee-drops-by/
