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rocks in the laundry

Installation made from plaster casts of children’s hands, laundry lint and rocks

Words by Joy Surles

A boardroom with a wall of windows, screens flashing.
Thighs pressed against leather seats
that used to be cows, their backs warm in the sun.
Faces flat-ironed pristine with herbal extracts blended in a lab.
Even the lakes on campus are well-manicured,
a heron stylishly placed on one foot, drawn there by the fish we imported,
and if you look down into the water, there are turtles,
interesting rocks. The oceans may, indeed, boil. 
The children bring rocks home in their pockets.
I find them in the laundry and wonder why –
but of course they need to bring the earth inside. 


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