Wednesday, July 23, 2008

writing a new language

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

The Secret Poem of July 19

Reconstructed in Highland Park and en route to Atlanta....


It came as a shock
When I realized
She had made a quick clean incision
While feeding me daylilies and tea

It's okay, I said.
Look: there's no blood.
And I feel fine.

Still, fear shuddered through her
as she slid her fingers into my flesh,
pulling the throbbing muscle toward her.

I can only take a nibble
She gasped.
dabbing
her
crimsom
lips.

Anonymous said...

This is wonderful....

Anonymous said...

July 23 is wonderful, I meant. The poem is...um...descriptive.

Art O.T. Grid said...

so you're saying the poem stinks?
well, I warned you! but thanks for translating it!

Anonymous said...

love this one in concept and execution! Good work

Art O.T. Grid said...

thanks.
I'm starting on a painting from this drawing,
just as soon as I quit screwing around on the interweb