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Apr 2013
I thought Van Gogh had it figured out
he fell in love
and cut off his ear
he died july 29 1890 from a self inflicted gun shot wound
He painted
He painted the sky
He painted men women bedrooms flowers shoes street corners chairs boats and fields

I thought Basquiat had it figured out
He painted memories in the present
August 12 1988
NYC apartment ****** overdose

I thought Picasso
I thought Warhol
I thought Stalin
Had it figured out

but sand fills our shoes in dry texan sun
and the dog howls
howls for its mother
howls for its brother
howls for its sister

I thought the dog had it figured out
eating insects
smelling my hands
eating the ham on the floor

I thought Hemingway had it figured out
Late at night
reading Old Man and The Sea
Suicide July 2 1961
12-gauge English shotgun

I thought Fitzgerald had it figured out
I thought Ginsberg
I thought Kerouac did too
drinking across the neck and back bone and gutter lips of America and back

I thought Bukowski had it figured out
the cigarettes
the wine
the women
the type writer
the sad nights accompanied by cockroaches and a city that is indigestible

I thought Phillip Glass had it figured out
going Def
Mozart lost in his grave
writing symphonies for Death and his cruel tripled eyed angels

I thought
The drunkards were lost
The Junkies were ankle-less
The Mothers were done for
The Fathers had given in
The Young
The Elderly
gazingΒ Β through the bifocals of heaven and hell
The Prisoners cemented in Time
I thought the Dead
were the ones who published our Dreams

I thought the painter
had it figured out

So I painted

I thought the pianist
had it figured out

So I played the Piano
and listened to the bilingual codes of the keys

I thought the Ballet dancer
had it figured out

So I watched her
I studied the movements
and the bruised toes
looking for a design of an answer

I thought the Poet
had it figured out

So I wrote a poem
and I saw the world.
Written by
Savio  Kansas
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