And
a poem.
O.K.,
O.K., so I took up public exhibitions, again
only
to find my self trapped in the cold dream of others (again),
my
dreams, set adrift looking out not in.
Always
happens when you forget your self.
Switching,
from one media to another,
oils
to acrylics
should
have known this,
just
a new play base.
I
sat, stood, walked around
painting
four pictures together in the side yard
with
bright colors in sunlight,
joined
by the passing by.
Put
'em in a pile to be painted over
when
a stroller just had to have 'em.
Baghdad
Express, dispatched, sheer luck
I'd
venture to say.
2).
Attack
3). Calming
Days
4). Hope (the Door)
