Common Art

When we are together
I do not want to write poetry;
I have no desire to spin wit and words
into clever metaphor –
verbs and adjectives
replacing one another
until the meaning is obscured
by the robust taste of the words in the air.

When we are together
I do not want to paint masterpieces;
I have no need for delicate brushes
to carefully outline along the canvas
every detail in my view,
nor to illuminate what sacred things
might arc across my vision.

When we are together,
I want to be honest –
to slam my fists against the wall
and let the blood from my tearing palms
be my pigment;
I want to be graffiti,
thrown against the skyscrapers
and broken down buildings;
I want to be the truth
of a name scrawled on a faded billboard.

But somehow when I am with you,
every song becomes a hymn –
every laugh becomes a carillon –
so I suppose I have no choice
but to adore you
with every highest form of art.

December 2011

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