Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Meeting Picasso at the museum

But you're dead, I said. 

From which angle, he asked. 

No, I reiterated, I mean that you are literally physically dead. 

He laughed.

Oh that, he said. It's just a phase I'm going through. 

Dead is dead, I argued. 

And art is art, he answered, and went back to his work.

Request permission to use this poem
j
Written by
joe-thompson
American
Published
Apr 3, 2022
Lines·Words
7·51
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell joe-thompson how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write