2002-07-10 - ?:?? AM
red purple yellow dots blending over photon alternate flashing
trails of liquid blacklight birdseed disappearing reappearing, like your abandoned principles.
A squirrel tries to take form
but falters
going to nibble on seed in some spectral hyper-surrealist forest.
He paints and drinks,
drinks paint
and paints with drink,
dribbles and spills red
over a stained canvas.
Picasso drooled on a sheet of paper,
and when it was finally framed,
the world held its breath in the same was as the moon holds in his,
waxing full and bursting bleeding hollow water.
Your painting feels the way my thoughts would smell if you were to microwave them for too long in a bowl of over-used extension cords.