have not slept  
this is how Dali did it,
this is how he painted
his elephants on stilts and melting strawberries in blue bowls.
  this is how Picasso rolled a ball of dirt into a woman,
and how
michelangelo
   gave himself to the lord.
   this is how a child
  eats from the box
of Kraft
  and the    girl cries herself to sleep for what she can't have and nothing changes.
  this is how it goes,
  this is how it always was and always will be.   the past whispers to the  
     thorn like it cares. and the  man stands tall among demons.  now go to bed and
dream