all

twenty-eight: i am art, i am

I am art, I am—I tell myself
The art that mauls the relief
To be repugnant, to be in vain
The art that aches for no
Recalibration—
Familiar, but not enough
To be surreal
Too mediocre, just right,
Just almost at the middle to
Be spared of no more than
A second to be looked at,
Have a being still but move,
And be enamored of

I am art, I am—I tell myself
I just get to be
I just get to be