I am the awareness behind the

Lovely painting in the maple frame.

I look out at the insanity

You call “living” from my perfectly

Blended world waiting for you to look

At me – really look, so you may see.

Yet, you all clatter along lost in

Your grave depravity failing to

Notice that I offer a glimpse of

Beauty within your growing madness.

I’m a prospect of something better

In my oil and linseed landscape –

A reflection of what once flourished

Before your torrid rape; before the

Inanimate and neon took shape

Over the living and breathing truth;

Before lunatic void grew agape

Swallowing up sleep-walking seekers.

Yet, you think me nothing but canvas

Trapped in maple (if you ever think

Of me at all) blind to fact you have

Yourselves confined in an asylum

Where walls are constructed of progress

Refined with windows and doors sealed shut

From the inside out, caulked with image,

Pretension and misguided desire.

© 2008