#1056 - explaining myself to the punters

 

27.xi.22

1056

3.330

explaining myself to the punters  

scribimus, lectionem non damus

 

some have asked me why I do it

what inspires me

what it means

 

if you say

‘feel free to ask’

this is what you can expect

 

what motivates me?

what am I getting at here?

 

people ask these questions

standing outside

picture, poem

and wonder for a window where

 

of course of course I ask them in

 

I shine their seeing with a rag

 

each one is a mirror

I like you lost

 

here’s the light cast

 

lost is on the right track

 

follow the trail out

a word till it shines

 

you thought you knew what you saw

you did not

 

why these skies when so many to choose?

sometimes they’ll ask – what’s this?

 

drag home some unsuspecting bone

 

more often though say what they see

(expect no pretty sight)

 

even with the cost of paper and paint

this is cheaper than the couch

 

I don’t know why I do this either

there can be no good reason

but it must go back a long way

 

so much unspoken

tone, posture, shrug

 

all stim it is

and someone said

 

just a little bit of colour shows

but they’re after black and white

 

prize smudge above all

fall in with my error

here there

 

each to own heartbeat

comes and goes

it’s for a kind of confounding

 

we all wear masks these days

 

ask – how did we get here?

which way have we come?

why?

and what do I think I’m doing?

 

they ask me when I’ll cross the line

burst first through

it’s alright for him

he won once

 

I’d rather be in the picture, the poem

waiting for the starter’s gun

 

nothing here is finished

by which I mean that I can’t stop

 

it’s a kind of mist script

 

it can’t be for words

but I’m lost

 

mainly I want them to look and listen

I don’t care how they smell