Artist

I counted

15 pages of

negative

thought

+ that doesn't

include the

index

still

the black-eyed peas

tasted crunchy +

you smiled a lot

we could make

a top notch

beach bbq

on the weekend

on the Sunday

with lots of

snags

+ other going ons

it's Friday

two more hours

to go.

many of you have

died that way

or so I've heard

doesn't surprise anyone though

does it

this huge killing field

all your bones like sticks

of paint that could have been

even I know that's not

normal.

they'll frame your pictures

pretty though.

he was a 

Rover

one dark

surprise

amongst

mountains

one tiny spirit

among

ochres

one cold dance

in the

bush light

one sure

hand

in the

night

we want tunes

we've heard before

(or at least catchy ones right)

50 pages of thought

that no-one knows

the words to or

cares

about

I am a true

artist