Your name was as it sounded-a candle in the dark,to guide me through the tunnelslifting melodies of larks.Rejected from fine Julliard,you swayed as you played Bach,when they offered you bravadoshould you flourish with the flock.“Alas” they said, “you’re talented,but must step into place”,when they noted that such movementswere preventing you from grace.But you, just like…
January 31st: (A response to Cornell’s: A Parrot for Juan Gris). Started: roughly 8:11. Finished roughly 8:55. In my dorm.) For Juan Who said that parrots were pretenders or that this world smiled when he did? You… custard-lipped Bramante, perched on your notions of ‘would’, when will you learn that digging your maltodextrined talons into…
The Priceless Piece
For those who can draw, let your own soul be seen, never mind those who say it is drivel. To the walls of the MET, let the critics reflect, that such wonders began with a scribble. For those who can sing, let your own song be heard, never mind those who say it is chatter….
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