Richard Serra, David Zwirner, Chelsea

It is hard, rough, and still.
A lot of young people suddenly became relatively still.

The space becomes bigger by the inclusion of something this big.

The roughness of the surface registers time.
A gravity-space paradox

The whiteness of the gallery
The silence
The concrete floor

Up close there’s marks of making
Of tarnish and tears
As I walked in
I was followed by teenagers chatting

The conversation became cacophony in the echoes and sonorously of the empty space.