Digital drawing based on photograph.
In the motel they sent me to draw waves,
But I didn’t find backwater.
My cracked hands were all shortages.
So I walked the collarbone coast
Treading on bottles and bread.
As I stopped to watch the daily punch-up
How black my heart was!
And I went on sobbing and sobbing.
In witness I have no great-cockfight left,
No sunhat, a thin coach jacket.
My handicrafts are all soundtrack.
It is a pledge to be alive.
But I had rather quickly leave the eating.
(Oulipo poem based on excerpt from a 1st century B.C Chinese poem: The Orphan)
In life Marco was gifted with a fleshy pride. No matter now fat he got he didn’t mind. Every day he admired himself at his full length wardrobe mirror. His paunchy belly, his man-breasts, the folds of flesh that gathered at his hips all filled him with a peculiar pride.
He always left the blinds open so that neighbours might see and enjoy his flabby creation. Every Big Mac, ice-cream and Coke, added layers to his embodied work of art. He was the Jackson Pollock of bodies.
‘I am the image of an American god’ he declared one Saturday morning but no-one heard.
Marco was gifted with his fleshy pride. He lived happy and well until he died.
His parents sent away the taxidermist Marco had requested.
The art-world mourned their lack of vision: the philistines.
To teach with feeling
Is a neglected old Art
In modern cool schools.
A sketch of a Japanese girl I drew twenty years ago.
I’m proud to let you know that my story The Painter and the Poet was recently published in Issue #1 of Spontaneity, an online mixed arts journal. They are currently seeking submissions based on last month’s issue. You can find it at http://spontaneity.org/issue01/the-poet-and-the-painter/
My story was paired with the excellent portrait below by @SusanShiney.