WALLY MIT ROTER BLUSE
A. Minetta Gould
Go on sweating in my palm; do not mind that it adds too much water to the color. The reds will reign on & the blues can remain overwhelming. Watch the pencils rolling without edges. Egon, keep your hand guard to the table. Egon, eat an apple; take another foul step toward a cadence set in threes. Egon, turn out an image of me. Your brush’s odd ether is wearing me like a fur. Yes, I can still shuffle the deck. Yes, I can still hike my skirt. Yes, I can still repeat our verse. The small body, of work & figure, is stringed & quietly molding as you like. This has removed my skin so that you can catch what is under it. Take a snap-shot of my eye; swear by the mere sight of it. Egon, go on. Draw me odd & long.