In a dream walking along a street
in some sad lonely city
a shadow passed over blocking out the sun
an imagined giant snail come to life
flying through the cracking China-Blue sky
revealing the sky-hooks hanging
from the Great Perpetual Cosmic machinery
& I remembered my artist friend
who gave up at twenty-five
before he really started
...ah fuck art he said
all created to entertain & distract the public
who demand the inane & the second rate
& the rest is just artsy-fartsy crap
she is a wicked devious demanding
sometimes deadly mistress
as he ripped up canvases & photos
& note-books of sketches & little poems
& one act plays for radio
tossing them into a flame-licked sooty fire-place
at least they'll serve a purpose now
keeping out the cold winter air -

remembering his charcoal sketches oil paintings
& black & white photos of surrealistic images
of objects robbed of context
a rocking chair taking a trip
around the city on sidewalks & streets
on roof tops & fire-escapes
a face inside a hat of a man
held by the man himself
paintings of gigantic snails & slugs
flying over a city-scape of sky-scrapers
ripping into the virginal china-blue sky
& other paintings of buildings
clouds & angels hanging precariously
from sky-hooks over the heads of myopic pedestrians-

burdened by the soul of an artist & a poet
believing in love eternal
believing people were honest & forthright
working at odd-jobs as a house -painter
waiter bartender taxi driver night-watchman
clerk at a video-store or used book-store
stamping & stacking books at the city library
hanging out with the arty-bohemian crowd
trying so hard to fit in
watching foreign & arty films
reading fashionable books of the In-crowd
quoting the latest Gurus
pursuing women he would never get
just slumming just a phase
just playing a part he couldn't understand
believing their promises of undying love
surprised as they moved on to settle down
marrying one of their own kind
too naive to realize
he didn't have the right credentials
becoming their Court Jester-

II

remembering the would be artist
adding white crosses scattered about each canvass
stamping them with God's seal of approval -

& the painter who covered each scene
with layers of paint & a giant symbolic triangle-

two writers who alternate the writing of a novel
page by page plastering the walls with them-

& the poet writing a thousand poems
celebrating each of his hundred cats-

& the ones who wrote wondrous verses
sending out innocent love their lives
not yet shattered by some natural event
not yet abandoned by a cruel lover
not yet touched by death disease hunger & despair-

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