A pure white house composed of cubes.
Nothing but straight lines –
No flourish, no stucco, no painted surfaces.
As he wanted himself to be.
It was all measure and proportion,
The battle to reduce life to the concrete.
Sharp-cornered windows
And sharp-cornered walls,
Unadorned, absolute,
Permitted no disturbance.
With especial attention he designed
The doorhandles and radiators
To blend exquisitely into the whole
Without disruption,to exist and no more,
Their simplicity won by immense finesse.
Every detail must annihilate itself,
A presence honed into absence.
Second looks would unsettle the stillness,
Dislodge anomalies, release ruptures,
Reveal the chaotic within the serene;
Suddenly the seamless door
Was awkward and heavy,
And the flowing flowed no more.
There could be no absolution.
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