you are my artform.
there are days when my stomach is not tucked in
and these attempts at spanish translation are too feeble
to dredge up verb conjugations
and i am just a fool.
i tried walking off this stupor
but it was like skipping off a cliff
(too easy, and anyway the philosophers
in my mindtunnels were too fat
too heavy to make action practical)
it's a sluggish sort of progress,
this growth into an orange-maned
and daily i stoop to rebuild the walls of my illusions.
(because i want to keep this sunrise radiating
from my smile
and i want to stay happy.)
i try hard not to be a realist.