'Painted Thoughts'
keep revolving in my mind
like a maze of mismatched memories
left visually behind
perhaps they hold the rusted key to some yet justified
reason pertaining to an uncredited event
putting a heated spark of question in my musty head
to ignite a fire of redirected intent
in even the most spartan of form I manage to locate
the door leading to detail
I can smash illusions into a million pieces but only if
the hammer is permitted to precede the nail
as I step into a not before entered room
one piece of bloodied madness lays prone at my feet
on the floor
reminding me of Van Gogh's severed ear
his precious gift de jour
these problems I have proclaimed are almost as purchased
as they are unnamed
some so difficult to describe that I call them small
shadows of their truth
portraying me as the poetic Clark Kent using this book
as my booth
my own worst enemy is my selfishness on its best day
I am not insane despite these insane tendencies I tend to
carelessly display
when my attended time has finally come to pass
I can only hope that the world once so close around me
will remember me by my brave outlook
and scrappy sass.............
(written Sept 1,1992 pm)