samarks
When I look at you,
I don't see expressionism
or realism or anything normal.
I see bits of Dali, abstractions
from the depths of insanity.
But it's better that way;
I like you the way you are.
blinded in downpour
i was hasty to my boat,
and follow the trail
of passengers long gone.
grave solitude
is the artist's practice.
Artistry is an occupation--
so occupy your own mind.
this is it.
see that blood on the ground?
see how it's running slower?
this is it.
-fin-
There were moment where I just stared blankly at my napkin,
Moving my hands over the edges to dry the sweat.
She spoke in the rhetoric, never specific.
Check please?
I was waiting in the darkroom with her,
her eyelashes flicked on and off like
light bulbs that weren't there.
Her photo was one of style and character.
She's shining in the darkest of places.
A product of the atmosphere around her.
Mama used to make us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
But now ma is gone.
She used to wake us up with kisses on the forehead and tickles,
But now ma is gone.
She's drifted away with the Santa Ana winds..