Necropanther - The Denver School

Paint on the screen;
Display, reckoning.

Queen of the plains,
Neal and Larry and Jack
Used to laugh at the way

Gesture itself and
The thing that it leaves
Is all I have to say.

Painting will spill out the truth,
Brush against the critics and cringe.
Distrust, disgust, and the stroke
Upon which so much depends.

Taos can go to hell.
Bright streets work just as well.

Left Madeline and the kids
I guess I loved back in Baltimore.
Needed my time; so much to say,
It remains unsaid.

Disappointed parents and teachers.
Opportunity and talent spent.
How much does “legendary fixture” earn,
Enough to pay my rent?

It's a joke, it's privilege, it's agony.
Smeared on the fabric, glistening gray.

“His youthful work was more vibrant,”
I hear them hissing in the dark.
“The best is behind him, gone away.”

Like a drain pipe
Eroding everything
As it flows.

Loitering in the grimy cowtown streets
By My Brother's Bar.
I'm a leonine, lupine, feral
Wraith of the wild. Pale facsimile,
Protean haunter of coffee shops, bore.

I drank deep,
Now it leaves me dry.
What did the Pierian
Spring teach me?