Sometimes imagination really takes you by the (metaphorical) balls and demands you wake up.

Every Body makes art,

Covering canvasas

Typing, touching-

No museums or publishers

Necessary.

You imagine the undulating relief of the forest;

The dark, gabled houses of endless asking;

The filling of empty boxes with the trinkets of memory;

The future that moves like dunes, wind in the Sahara;

The possibilities of man and woman;

Daily navigations of disaster and discretion:

You are worthy of the finest receptions

The champagne and congratulations

You are the center of genius and creation

Everyday, without exception.

You make your own escape

From the windowless rooms of have to

And can’t do, and you do it with the truest color.