People as Evidence
        for Alice Neel

Not so much the eyes
but the middle of the gesture—
early bloom, late wrinkle, the most multiple parts,

nipple and fat roll. Leg and tangle and temper.
It was that entrance
to the center that made it impossible

to look away. Saturation of bones,
the subjunctive. Next I saw black-on-blue
hair and the swirl of a shadow on a cheekbone;

saw where light was offered to forehead.
Drawing first the fleshbruise
then smoothing to drifts and deeper

insinuations of breathing. Desperate mouth
invitations. Each painting told subject-
verb-curl-cleft in overindulged shades

of shoulders and hollows. She knew every
rule and broke them to piles
of mudcolored poses. Hair and knees,

the uncomfortable compassions. Arms in despair
and the opening of casual shapes. For her,
no delicate structure. Cleaving creases

and cheeks to sorrows and obsessions,
she mixed warm and cool, let her fingers conjure
scars, detail, possible selves. With her wrists

she closed off mistake. The painting not saying
but willing to gather
what otherwise sensibly hid.

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Copyright © 2022 Lauren Camp All rights reserved
from Salt Hill
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission