The first art
Was not art,
Rather, a color line shot through the dark,
No more expression
Than a plea for explanation.
The grandest monuments
And greatest terrible wars
Were all done for the sake
Of a loving God,
For a ready answer,
An easy mistake.
___
The featured image accompanying this poem, entitled ‘Check Mate’, have been used with the permission of artist Patricio Betteo.
“I’m afraid your head will fall off,” Esme said. “What silly nonsense,” her friend replied. “No, this is serious,” Esme pushed. “I remember it happened
In the coffee shop watching all the invisible people. The Chinese cellist reading aloud without a sound, the two men nearby trying to flirt inconspicuously,
I pursued him with a single minded determination that had been notably lacking in my previous endeavours. I wanted Richard to be mine like I
