A MAN POSITIONS A DEHUMIDIFIER SUCH THAT IT DRAINS INTO A MOP BUCKET POSITIONED ADJACENT TO, BUT A SHORT DISTANCE FROM IT; THE MAN THEN URINATES ON THE FLOOR IN THE SPACE BETWEEN THEM; HE THEN LEAVES THE CONTAINED SPACE SO AS TO ALLOW THE URINE TO EVAPORATE.
the clouds are less definitive
than they’ve recently been
and it is not entirely
clear when one begins
and the other begins
and the sky begins
and the air begins
and my intake begins
and my exhaust begins
and is my exhalation, the one out of frustration with your malaise
up there a part of them, those cumulous clouds
as my eyes would indicate
as they roll in their direction
so often as an accompaniment
attributed to my blatant, triumphant disregard for anything remotely sacred
and if so
if they are
is it the part that which has forced the water vapor passed the threshold of precipitation?
is it the reason I sit here saturated?
If I were to wring out my shirt, or socks, and all manner of clothing
would an examination of the supplied water chemistry reveal what component of this rainwater is our problem?
for there are no solutions without problems
that can be read two ways
it is not only to say that every solution is imperfect
but that more emphatically speaking
were it not for problems, there would be no need for solutions
then and also
there are no solutions only further diluted problems
yet perhaps those are less relevant than the understanding
that I should know well enough by now:
the problem is always an integral part of the solution
[MOP, BUCKET, DEHUMIDIFIER, URINE - performance / sculpture]