it was though an aging
pane of glass
that I made this photograph

warped and diffuse
like a walgreens salt shaker
that had been neglected to an empty state

the uneven surface
somehow refracted more vividly
the wings of a scarab subdued
through gauze of idealism

created a gem out of a rock

tricks of light,
tricks of a tired heart
I danced to its music
painted it with the petals of roses
made love to it in my dreams
made love of it
this canvas stitched of extravagance
coated by the oils of ignorance

a fotomat snapshot by Cartier-Bresson

my art
became my accountancy
I drew it different each day
drew it in deeply
deeper
deep
a needle’s hunger

I drew a simple chalk-line
surrounding
my splayed self

© Tom Watters  2/10/07