Intense Gaze
~To Pablo
Poco a poco, one by one
the fleet within your iris
orchestrates the ocean
& maneuvers the birds
Take each form
to a new level
organic/industrial
Each innocent
broken bird beneath
your canvas is a
deadly venture for
your muse
for she would lose
her soul
Otherwise you would be
soul-less--& how could you
go on to fuel yourself
to help you keep on?
Dead bodies
since your death
but you left us
such art!
Blood--their blood
in another narrative
another scene
Oh, how men would love
to be you
but they are--
no difference--
except you make art
out of them
Digest them through
your eyes
In return
for your revolutions!
