1.17.2026

for a moment no one there succeeded

Her dealer, who handled successful artists, 
    was a successful dealer, 
and his Christmas party, too, was a success: 

we all knew it, for weren't we all there? 
    And the successful artist 
being handled in her eighth decade knew it 

too, although she was so old and had been so 
    unsuccessful for so long 
that she seemed to pay no mind to anyone. 

She sat quite still, her rosy scalp glistening 
    through her rather thin white hair, 
and gave no sign of hearing, or ignoring, 

any of our successful conversations. 
    Above the chair she sat in 
(like a furnished bone) loomed the decorative 

focus of the long room which had been handled 
    by a successful designer 
of skeletal interiors: a Roman male, 

oversize and barely under overweight, 
    every muscle equally 
successful—classically nude but not 

in the least naked as any man would be. 
    And as the talk continued 
Alice Neel leaned back and looked up into 

the forking limbs above her head, a pure 
    pelvic arch indeed denuded 
of the usual embellishment, so that 

all that met her eye was a shadowed empty 
    socket, the mere embouchure 
where once unstinting paraphernalia 

must have lodged. "Very fragile things, penises," 
    she mused, and for a moment 
no one there succeeded in saying a word.

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