Muriel
‍

How much. How much.
How much.
How much.
How much. How much. How much.

Now that the compulsion is completed and isolated,
I may look upon the divine.
Oh, dark passion, see how she sweeps across everything, more lovely
Than blood.  
And more than one quadrant!  
But that was never
The appeal.  No,
It was the promise of a rose.
A promise I knew would never be kept.
But all the same,
What a wonderful idea.  

Irreverent Poet’s Intermission
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I think perhaps
That the reason abstract art is so popular is
Because
It gives the critic too much credit.  

Here is a mirror,
How would you rate yourself?