Artists

A poem

O the life of chaos artists lead

Their guitars hanging on walls
Almost all missing a string

Their canvases strewn across the floor
Only half of them finished

The coffee table is covered
With six mugs from yesterday
A journal
And a small splatter of every color of paint

Either forgetting to shower
Or taking seven a day

The ashtray is always too full
And their hearts always beat fast

The Poet’s Blessing and Curse

That Night At His Gallery

Becoming