Dark Drawn Man
dark drawn man
in two - legged sedan,
Diogenes least
the more i am.
a worn down crease --
opens
like blotched butterfly wings,
that drop in tokens
on imaginings --
lost, but living
through drought and giving.
dark drawn man
of wiccan, glam
rock and folk --
who likes a smoke;
hermit and ham,
sometimes a dam
for the waterfall
of it all --
bohemian and gothic,
romantic, hypnotic,
un-photographic
hates cam.
dark drawn man
whose thought beats flam
on sticks
of words
his focus and blurs
without tricks
of prussian blue
and cadmium red
the way Modigliani drew
his mistress on his bed.
Sophocles was right!
the darkest days, catch chinks of light --
running out of Ram,
but love is who i am.
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