Self-Portrait

Saturday

Birdnest Hair


He gave me more blood and noise to paint with.

I gave him vomited vodka and a hug goodbye.

I indirectly apply my blood and noise to the fabric of her skin, a cheap theatre costume for an unwritten play, for a character who is a nonsensical nonentity.

Who wrote the unwritten?

Was it you?

Because I expended my supplies in the theatre, the painting is finished, incomplete. I chew it up and spit it out, like a mother bird feeding her little chirplings. The invisible birds nestle in my hair, chirping sweet lyrical lullabies to bid my consciousness away. I don't chew the frame for them, I kindly let it live and be worn as my suit of armour.


The day after the night before,

Puppets devoured by the stage trap-door.

3 comments:

  1. Great shot! I love the perspective... xP

    Geez I lol-ed so much with the 2 first sentences... I love your sense of humor, you know that.

    ReplyDelete

Write me something pretty.