I almost bought a copper kimono once,to hang upon my wall.
Found it in a gallery,
went back to visit several times,
didn't think I could live without it
until I got up close and saw
the tiny streaks of red
splattered down the front, like blood --
nothing serious: more a lost tooth,
or a flesh wound,
than a saber to the heart --
but still, it stopped me.
I put my money back in my pocket.
I never minded art about mortality,
but apparently I draw the line
at suggestions of violence.
* * *
No comments:
Post a Comment