deepundergroundpoetry.com

On the exhibition
On the exhibition,
I could see the painting.
And the mosquito standing on the white wall.
Here it is I thought:
«Another kind of work of art!»
They have not written her name on the list,
At the entrance door.
But she does not care.
She gave it a try today.
A touch of long elegant sketches.
Black!
And arms made of air.
I could see the painting.
And the mosquito standing on the white wall.
Here it is I thought:
«Another kind of work of art!»
They have not written her name on the list,
At the entrance door.
But she does not care.
She gave it a try today.
A touch of long elegant sketches.
Black!
And arms made of air.
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