i’d bear witness to the abrupt / the
artistic-statement in a flagrantly odd
picasso / a couched long face shielding
its complexion from vampires above /
just off canvas hanging with the
dilettantes, also the homeless getting
out of the weather / wind-chill factors
a new form of innuendo i guess / a quiet
chat with jiminy cricket my wake-up-call:
your long-lines are pat & at their worst
sexist (yeah you’ve got that unconscious
stuff bubbling underneath, skewing
your actions) / the cleaner buffs him
into a globule of cadmium-red before
i can say anything / & what do you ever
do: afterwards / we scratch our noses
& look through windows avoiding the
view / my monochrome background,
my hyphenated identity comes back
to haunt the next patron / like a ghost
like a story the adheres / art moves
counter-clockwise when buildings
close / i’m talented &/or energetic
while asleep despite people googling
me in the future, gasping abjectly
to find out some such thing

.

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