This flesh is an oil painting hidden in an attic     my pigments fading

as they drag down across the canvas     my bones cracked and rotting

and flaking onto the dusty unfinished floor     while in the parlor

below my mind dances for company     argues over the finer points

of Egyptian mythology and eschatology as it relates to the Age of

Aquarius and our current political climate     listens to deep cuts of

free jazz and sips coffee from an unknown country     flexing its

sinuous bicep energies to impress its guests     its subtle body

marinating in this touchable room     this sensual feast     it says let

the flesh fail     let the liver collapse upon itself     let the heart seizure

under paint thinner fumes     the spirit will live on     gyrating in the

cosmic rave     a swirling current in the waters of the unified ocean

a coat of paint that never dries     a portrait never finished