Art is the appreciation of one man’s perception of any given moment
Staring at the claret and gold grape leaf pattern embossed on the chair
Because if I look away now I’ll never see into the soul of the world.
I’ve been looking at myself too long now for answers to be forthcoming
Bible verses and uncontested parking tickets are all that I have left
I think it wise to be able, I think it wise to be able, I think it wise.
Twenty-nine grapes in a bunch teaches me nothing
Neither the flowers on the curtain, nor the grain in the wood, nor the dove
It’s 11:43 and if I close my eyes an opportunity may present itself
Amidst the shadows, between the crevices of my unconscious mind
To allow someone else upon waking to capture this moment
Of a recumbent figure no longer praying to idols since now I’m not one.
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