splattered thoughts

[saw]

splattered old shirt
patches of negative space
the final frontier
the color-wheel spins
the art of roulette is more
than two tones
my brushes must be lonely
without my touch...oh my
the ego is the fly in the room
the elephant is in the ointment
yet...what then is the reason
they stare at me from across the room
rags and easel silent as if not to but in
or sway the narrative, silent....longing
I imagine ....and so it is...forget Descartes
my imagination is stunted.. I can only notice
these accomplices to my crimes
and it is a massacre in this church
the stained glass has bloody eyes
and there is obvious abetting in pursuit
to manipulate a mind and a hand
collusion some would say, to shape perception

[saw]

well worn initiative
mocs for the head
and me here for the ride
a hitchhiker to the galaxy
not the Ford, the other one
and my thumb is so ready
my fingers as well, the canvas
on the easel, not the
ko'd boxer....not the dog either
so you see one thing can lead to another
just like my pappy used to say
son. if it ain't one thing....it's another