Like a Hemmingway I wish to shoot myself in the head In the hopes that what comes out Will fall on the page in just the right way That she is left in awe Of my scattered (splattered) thoughts
As though I were Van Gogh I slash and sever my body And offer it up to passersby Who only offer indifferent glances While I slowly bleed to death Atop another blank canvas
And just like the great wordslingers Luminaries who build empires from pen strokes I will take the stage with my magnum opus Only to crumble to dust in the light