He could not paint
felt weak, frantic.
Crashing in from elsewhere
a boombox beats
out music.
One tiny line
blue and gorgeous,
two.
From a head drunk and mean
he pounds about the place.
Paints a rust red peach,
chocolate shine, black
white,
He watches and
puts down.
1 comment:
Mmm . . . a poem about painting!! I absolutely love the last two lines: "He watches and / puts down"!
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