(the swirly mess behind my
eyes) contrast, deviate?
the clarity of my
heart
no'sir i think
i will kiss their ugly noses
(pinch their hollow cheeks)
take them in, employ
muses
to grindstones
and create
a spark(le)


.i.am.a.forgetful.dog.you didnt mean to do it (i know you never said so you never apologized-- how.i.am.a.forgetful.dog.
could you?) i only assume
i am a faceless misdeed a check mark in a book called well-i-fucked-that-up
similarly you do not know how you groomed me
a mongrel
trimmed up like a poodle (your shears were clumsy, and i bled)
sedated with lies and naivety
i am all grown now, still
marked still damaged
a forgetful dog afraid of bones


.from.what.i.can.see.when the corners of your lips pull up there is a simple beauty-- a light that you exude.from.what.i.can.see.
(the dark cannot deny)
a purity of joy deserved in your laughter-- i could not ignore it if i were earless and dumm
when you frown i have to wonder
if the sun outside has fizzledout
(my heart cannot deny you) you drown out my greyish noise
and this power in your expression is reflection from you


.block.i cannot excuse this.block.
i am an empty skull (bleached by the toxic glow of a television screen)
a vacant shell; a fatter body and a gaunt mind... open my head you'll see
it looks like a skelleton tree draped with rotting flesh (unsuitable meat)
just Feeed please it to the dogs.
--
[
Also, that dude was the first artist to write on the subject of Art Theory in 1435 "On Painting"
--
Life is a spectacle. If you're not looking, you're missing it.
-Sean Morris
Thanks for the friend add!
I like your gallery!
--
Does this count as a signature?
~JoshOi
--
I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.
--
I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.
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