The Met is dripping

some workers are looking
for the problem

I’m sitting in the room with the Egyptian Ruins
& massive windows that look out
over Central Park

See Susan, one worker says
he points at a wet spot on the ground
Susan touches the drip
nods seriously

The wishing well beneath me
reflects
the floor to ceiling windows
the metal that frames the glass
creates a grid of rectangles
the water grids ripple

Over here too Susan
Susan walks a couple of feet
touches a larger water drop with her pointer
rubs it between her fingers
nods gravely

A girl takes a selfie in front of
Male Figure with a Diadem
2nd – 1st century
she smiles with all her teeth
she lifts the phone up way overhead
snaps & walks away grimly
face cast down to phone
she nearly walks into Susan

The ladies beside me draw up their legs quickly
Susan almost walks on them
Susan is not aware of her surroundings
her neck is craned up at the ceiling
she is holding her neck with her hand
it’s sore
she’s been staring at the ceiling for ten minutes

There is a brown pile of something in the wishing well
it’s not shit
it’s ceiling
Susan sees
shakes her head
sternly
her shoes click as
she
walks away primly

Susan comes back with a pale and
a net
most often used to clean out
tiny fishbowls
she fishes out the piece of ceiling
triumphant
drops it in the bucket
her co-worker picks up the bucket
they walk away

It’s hard to say what they’ll do with it
a drop falls on my neck