Thinking we're autonomous
until the night creeps up in on us
and the Monsters make a mockery
of me.

I am not the camera,
not the lens
not Isherwood,
just
a man with some pens
and time on his hands
to fashion a rhyme

Lowry
painted me,
a matchstick man
and I saw a triumph
heard bugles call,
didn't know I was Humpty
'til
I fell off the wall.

But
I am fully functioning
firing on six
jumping the red lights
to get in the mix.

it's character acting that
attracts so many and so
many lose themselves
in the characters they create

I can relate to that.

I believe Picasso
let me go
because
he was blue,
another character trait
that fell through.

I always want the other end of the rainbow.