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A Confession
To soften his adolescent growing pains
he was encouraged (can’t recall by whom)
to take up painting – to make a name
for himself, they said. When that failed,
and miserably, he took up drinking
which he likened not to a godsend,
rather to a bodily need and calling.
And so it was, for in little time
he became proficient with the bottle
and was soon dubbed master of alcohol.
His first exhibitions were private,
of course; he was, after all, a novice.
Only years later, with no small courage
or lack of inhibition, did he feel
competent enough to go public.
To his disappointment, however,
and a severe blow to his pride as well,
his public exposure (though widely known)
was not well attended except by
the usual “patrons” – mostly police,
psychiatrists, and condemning clergy.
Happily, however, his name often
made headlines on gossipy tabloids –
the only recognition he consistently
garnered during a long career which has
kept his name burning in the public’s
ears and eyes for decades now, and is
certain to be his legacy long after
he has passed out and away for good.
Copyright ©
Maurice Rigoler
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