1214
29.iv.23
4.119
frontality
ekphrastic
for Sidney Nolan’s (1962) ‘Escaped Convict’
‘when I
am far away and all my bones is moulded away
… I
value death nothing … I have not closed an eye since’
he is like a lost tiger
already parts missing
he is the blur of a man
betrayed
how many fingers am I holding up?
this is a face for another world
he is dressed for mud
love lost
but not to death
set circumstances
a blur to be off
wears stripes
for a way out of the world
he is becoming the place
he could be anyone
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