I've never been a good painter,
although my imagination's good enough,
I don't know what kind of acid it would
take to
make her want to make you
erase a single word.
As I went outside to
have a cigarette, the girls
on the third floor were
chattering indistinguishable
from the birds in the trees. They
are so young at heart,
and so boring.
As the other old soul
(my old english teacher called
me that once, it made an impression;
she also thought I looked
like I should have been named
Benjamin),
I am not so subtle as you. I
can only draw on stone
crude hieroglyphics
in hope that readers reach
some vague conclusion
about lived experience.
Oh, but when I feel that
soft white hand guiding my clumsy
wrist...
I can even
paint a sunset on a square of silk
as it flutters lightly,
floating in the breeze.
|
Submission Name: I've never been a good painter
