we don't live in times
likened to a nearby 1cm off
renaissance painters
with patrons as noble as the popes,
we live in times where
free art flows, free art as free
among starving people,
as free as sea water, as free
as candlesticks among electric
shrapnel sparks, in a time
when no bothersome brine
of full-time takes the telescope
to see more stars that are plentiful
already to eden's sacrifice of nakedness
(sign-of-the-cross missing crucifix blaspheme
all authority);
we live in times where no complete
artist exists, instead artists with
full-time jobs tying them down
to originally stated profession for a
date (lawyer, surgeon, chemist, etc.)
& **** art has become 2nd grade karaoke
if no worse hara-kiri would-be sway of
a forgotten decapitation - of a disembowel'ed satyr
when a martyr would do a due icon for the
urban and shrinking wheat field arable populace
kneeling;
in st. petersburg i was told to stand up
when listening to a choir,
once in catholic school i yawned during our father
and was held in detention for an hour,
then paddy came along and said: martin luther -
so i said sweden in suede and it became the origin
of quebec: came the rain of applause.