Ars Artistica
There’s nothing nourishing
in the paint
no thinking in the ink
any lithograph is a sidewalk
with a pigeon’s punctuations
The city slides on
the subways whine and grumble
people speak into their palms
walk right into each other
startled
by the momentary
memorial touch of body
only to be
scanned away
back to the stuffy peace
brimming in their devices
Please don’t step on my toes
these are only sneakers
if you get them dirty
a black taxi will pick me up
and take me to
that part of the city
where they keep
people with dirty shoes
