The Artiste

The pills like Christmas trees
I much prefer the blue
Drop that jug of water
I need something else to drink

My throat is still dry
Let me give some orders
Let me drink some paint
Ah! Coppery red paint

Wonder how old this one was
Mmmm tastes around...
These tea parties are revolting!
Children sleeping safe and sound

Never thought of what we represent
Monkey on a cross
She didn't like it
It's art! We're all crucified at some point

Art show next week
What mask should I wear this time?
I'll sleep on it, I'll sleep on him
He looks peaceful enough

Crooked dreams of healhty limbs
Straight reality of demented bodies
Smells rotten, throw that rat out
I need to sleep

Little boy give me your back.

This poem is dedicated to:
Ramona A. Stone