The Artist and a Giant Plastic Ant
His artistry is unpolluted and revolutionary.
The way he pushes color across his world
is a miracle.
Whorls of potato-like people dancing.
Dashes and blots of undiscovered animals.
I like his black lightning streak strikes.
A squarish-lemon meringue sun.
Orange finned tuna flying without fins.
A crucifix lies within the letters of his name.
He's wielding a slashing, strong palette tonight.
Prolific slinger of colors you are, young one.
Your mind must be tiring-mine certainly is
You're on a bright blue forest blitz.
One last fit of color for the night
always well outside the lines,
He finally puts the palette away.
Bowing to a milk and cookie sunset.
His fingers stained with a rainbow's premonition.
The artist sleeping like a cherub, beside a giant plastic ant.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
