Then when I saw a piece that was blatantly a vagina, I felt affirmed. It became an inside joke I had with myself. At the time, I kept thinking the more abstract sculptures resembled vaginas. This poem is a combination of the notes I took in the garden. I'd watch the sun set over the Hudson River, totally unobstructed, except for a sculpture that seemed to be placed to interact with the sun. During the day, I'd put on my badge, call myself poet-in-residence and walk around the sculpture garden and really spend time with the sculptures, reading the descriptions and jotting down whatever notes came to me as I explored. The living room in the house was all windows and at night it was pitch black and I was terrified of what I couldn't see. I'm giving all of this background information to say that I was living and breathing art, inspiration, and legacy. For two weeks, I stayed in the Marcel Breuer house on the grounds of the Rockefeller estate, a home that had been transported from the Modern Museum of Art. One of the highlights of the Pocantico Center is the sculpture garden surrounding Kykuit, one of the Rockefeller family's homes. I wrote "In My Rush" during a two week residency at the Pocantico Center thanks to a partnership between the Rockefeller Brother's Fund and Cave Canem, an organization for black poets.
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