Friday, February 10, 2017

Where Art thou Writer?


I tried to paint black cows on a moonless night,
it never came out right, 12 times out of ten,
but then I added blue and I knew
I was not a painter,
so I quit for a bit.
I tried cleaning
Once
I tried mapping, lists, and other gists of things,
All of which turned out were wrong.
then I wrote, and wrote and wrote
without periods,
and tried and tried to stop the words whizzing
by, arrest and test, to find the best ones.
I was fooled, I failed again and again
picking pyrite on sight,
my carbon spilt into lead,
took nothing out but blood,
a flood of it and died on the page.

Now the cows can sleep peacefully,
if only I could see.


Artwork by Paulus Potter (c. 1647) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Tres (trace)

Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...