Friday, November 19, 2004
Paintings on a neglected wall,
the work of the global artist
Barely hang by their hooks, fragile
spider webs hold them still for us.
You lay your interpretation next to mine
and they mate on the floor at our feet.
Like we, they cry,
who will nurse these babies?
Gently cradle newborn heads,
and wash open little eyes,
Yet how shall they see each other,
from across the room?
This is in response to the craziness; heaven help up if we feel the need to crucify Yorkies dressed like Quakers. I have had enough.
We are headed towards legal and agreeable segregation. To a growing country of ego- maniacs I say, �not everything is about you�.