Pat Gunn (dachte) wrote,
Pat Gunn
dachte

Paint Smudge

What does strength mean, when it fights itself? Virtue a plae glow aroundshattered glass, watch out, some shards might come flying out. A pouring motionis appropriate for the end of the day, the eyes, the teeth, the lips quiver,a sneer, a sneeze. A promise, an offer, a suggestion that I make that I'm gladyou don't take. It's out there because it deserves to be, not because of me.A clever set of moves, catch the fish. Put it in the tank, safe from the lava.I make my paintings the most complex thing in the world, and you have thenerve to comment on the basest features. You judge the pool by a single toeon the edge. Oh, look, it's an amish lady wearing military boots underher skirt. I hate your work, I smear it with my fist, and then look inamazement at the markings left on my fist, a solid block, with preciselyseperated strands of dark colour. The beauty is not in the whole composition,but in what it makes us do. Cosmopolitan Ice Cream? The sharp pins of adoll, left in as a reminder that not all dolls are meant to be played with.Again, that odd current, the faint tinkle of carnival music, strange thatinsanity is the path out of chaos... But it's not my bus. I will wait forthe Number Five, or I will walk. The red carpet is something we can layfor ourselves, if we can understand that it is not a mark of subservience.Perhaps we don't need that, if we shatter ourselves.. Instead, let's clearthe sky, and look above. The constellations are real here, giant objectsin the sky, we can even pop a DVD into the air, and watch a movie on ourown private omnitheatre. Anger, Doubt, Happiness, Anticipation, all of themare clouds, and they're so far away. Ever since the relevation, noone reallyseems to care anymore, seems to fight anymore, seems to love anymore, seems to interact anymore. We just stumble through reality, never meeting,each closing our eyes, as our endless inner worlds prove more meaningfulthan the one we once shared. All futures are a humanist's nightmare, theessense of now fades. I was around for that time, when all the lights inthe world lit up, the globals disappeared, the lanterns acting as orangeshields against the new darkness. The darkness that happened, as societyadapted, the new life as we explored the new realm, the collectives, untilwe either died or all learned the tricks. Did you really try to fast talk thegods into giving you those sandals? How they were so impressed with yourchutzpah that they gave you the pair, and the green lines beside. Admirationand jealousy is always what they felt, a moment of panic and a sneaky idea foryou is imitated by endless calculation.

Tags: poetry
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