GRAFFITI

Poets
By virtue of writing
Short pieces
Must be artists
Capturing a molecule
Of time and space
Some are portrait painters
Or intricate land- or
Seascapers
Revealing a tiny
Slice-of-life story
Me?
My genre is
Graffiti
Pressing my can of
Spray paint furtively
Sloppy lines, symbols,
Words
You glance at my hidden work
In dark city alleys
No real artistry
Or on rust-ridden overpasses
Where hanging off
My cement canvas
Dangling without a safety net
I bring you my best work
So if you take the time to study
The bones of the painting
The mythology of my esoteric
Scribbles
It will be clear
In my primitive way
I sure do have a lot to say
And sometimes there’s a glint of
Wisdom
Sometimes
But do you see…?

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Overpass Graffiti

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