coarsely course through you & coerce you to beauty

how Art thou? Do you drink from the deep sink of inspired creations at an art museum, gallery, or maybe a street art fair on a street near you?sometimes?
Do you have something on one of your walls that you could only fall for?
And, can't help but stare?
It's an important thing,dontcha think?
It has been from an early age for me.
I'm told that soon after I found my father who had killed himself (the Hemingway), while all the distraught adults who knew & loved him were off balance with emotional & practical adjustments (like selling the house and moving on)
a forgotten first son had got into several paint cans and expressed quite a colorful statement on the backside of the new house for sale.
I
I was perched high for me
in a pinepitchtree
and waited out what I did
as I watched our house's back side
where I painted from all the paint cans
stacked out back. Though very new plans
made us move away from that life.
Daddy had died and left that life.
Somebody and something could only cover
that work.
II
a french girl with hair from the girl in Breathless
was our art teacher that visited
Miss Blue's 3rd grade class,
and liked my painting so much
she asked if she could take it
for a contest, or a book she was working on.
The blurry greens and blacks,
browns and blues was a ship in a storm.
I never saw it again but
somebody and something could only recover
that work.


still, tie me to the mast.

and

I must get the next good grasp
still, the next limb up
to see some.