almost there
almost where
moonbeams meet majesty
and artisans seek pageantry

that aisle
number 13 while
away I did
stood

trying to blend into
some splashed canvas work
feeling out of place
time turning blank space

next to what has been said
is a great statue monument
looks like a homeless man
in a shopping cart

to the avant garde
the well heeled glassed
champagne nosed up retinue
surveyors all *** reamers knew

the painting all held in esteem
oooohed and ahhhed  made fainting
sighs said oh my a lot
were my patrons my matron's lot

since I ran out
and ran into
and ran away and ran aground
ran off aways and stood

all out of breath and
new  pain in my side
pain in my *** subsided
pain in my head transcribed

I  knew I wasn't poetic
nor the next new (sic)
toy, or a bright flame
on any rich dame's horizon

I sat on the curb disturbed
worried for my next Hors d'oeuvre.
about to smoke
my last bit of dope