Finished Painting

 

Passing an artist just before sunset she 

had been painting alldaylong in the park by the bench 

every person in passing in six seconds or less and 

capturing the life of the line that was a person 

Packing up her brushes and not a single empty canvas 

I wished to paint her Beauty with so many words endless but 

Skryllex playing in my head and 

the ketchup on my shirt said no 

I returned to the spot where she seemed planted even 

in the snow with a space heater granted a 

ridiculously orange umbilical cord 

to keep her paints from freezing 

She pulled out a thermos which was steaming and 

offered me up to the dreaming filled 

with mushroom soup and breath and 

grew old with me until death 

Little Monsters

Something there is that hates a shoe,

that splits the fib'rous ends in two;

and tends to wear the precious tread,

and makes the runners running-dead.

With every single step I take,

it seems to make the leather break.

What dreadful demon, (naughty sprite)

would come and take my shoes at night?

Little monsters ate my sole 

and left a giant gaping hole.