by Stephen Jarrell Williams
Too much magic in the mess we've created...
Multiple paintings
far reaching
shore to shore, cities to walls
our click clicking thousands
acrylic
crayons
hordes roaming
mad in our dreams,
changing our style
we can't stop the flood
lightning jagged in the night
rumblings of thunder shaking windowpane
glass breaking us awake,
who's there?
the loud quiet in our ears
leaking linseed oil,
sitting up in our beds
we're a tribe of selling artists
paint brushes and pencils under our pillows
we're miles from the sea
sketching nudes in waves
tying down the sexy ones with wet sheets in the sand,
moon warm
pastel skin
gleaming highlights on an endless canvas,
we never finish night after night
assembly line
rain dripping
sometimes smearing our best lines drawn,
the sun's spotlight showing our tricks of living forever
in the paint.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment