Pubblicatoil Lug 11, 2019 in ART, Poetry Box








“Always looking

through the large scale

blown up

senseless opulence

the point is

show off

artificial respect

is behind the curtain

on the stage

in an empty theatre

money, green, money,


ok I hear you

do I have to clap my hands?

fuck you, he said”


acrylics, oil pastels, gel inks, graphite on paper