Art In Bloom

Blooming

Life

Amongst decay

Of old canvas and oil

Reminds us of spring

Where flowers sprout in the humus of last years bloom.

To the Third and Fourth Generations

If you took all of the blood

And all of the tears

And all of the bodies

And poured them in a river

They would still flow back down onto your head.

1838-1915

March

March in the sun

March in the wind

March in the rain

March till you can’t

Then march again

So says the Man

With his hands in blood

So it always is

So it always was

Booting Up

Ouch!

The overhang leaves a mark on the head

And you have to stooop

So that you don’t fall over

The space is tight and cold,

But the plugs are warm.

Welcome to the family, son.

To Cancer

Cancer

You bloody beast

You bear with ten thousand claws

You animal that rips children and mothers and fathers

You blood-soaked thing that lies inside of us

Until you burst through the skin and destroy us

God damn you

God actually damn you

God destroy you with his truth and light

Burning into a million particles

Until not a single tumor remains

And you are thrown in the grave with your brothers AIDS

Huntingtons

Alzheimers

And all else that plagues us