seem to be art. there are the
drippy little dabs of insight
and breadth -
each containing something
for which we can all relate. if the
genius loves company then he sold
himself to a high-bidding firm, then said
goodbye at the sign of the first gold watch. his
children thanked him for the selfless
sacrifices (which bubbled underneath
the discourse of life-lessons at holiday meals) and
countless contributions to class projects
and his signature "love yous" without provocation.
through it all gold spattered
and spit upon already gilded recollections
of childhood recalled for the posterity
of a hint of a chance at residing near
the relics on cool, white, unvisited walls.
(c)jim hill 07-24-2011
