The Arts To The Last Drop

Look at this! The blood is pouring out. I’m red all over – Red all over.

All this beautiful red, don’t clean it up! Dam I’ll use it still, I will

I’ll smear it here, and if I can still stand I’ll get it all over your counter.

Wouldn’t you like that? This has to be, can’t stop till I’m empty.

I’ve got this drive I can’t wind down, so I quiet it by getting out of town

Yes here, this is how I’ll go, death to an artist hungry no more.

I’ve ate my fair share of you, of the earth, and all its miraculous hues

I never rest, my heart was built for this – that’s why it seethes

You hear me quiet but inside I’m writing you a scene no one’s seen before

What is this?

I’m gasping and it’s not a kiss

I can’t fill my lungs, catch up, catch up,

I’ve made it to the counter. I’ve covered you in red flowers

And now I see what’s going on, the world is bloody exhausted of my fire

I’ll lay down!

I’m already on the cold ground.

I think my fire has backdrafted as I inhale

All this red and I astonish as I think perhaps I have fallen ill

A mind turns to fill, I am art, this is nowhere near rational