Thursday, May 28, 2009

Celaeno, oil on canvas


this morning I saw a face
in the abstract painting
that hangs between the stiff leather couch
and the chipped plaster beam
in the lawyers’ reception area

a wicked old woman
she raises an eyebrow
above her skeptical yellow eyes
faithless in my clumsy plans
that slip and stretch like cat’s cradles
she wrinkles her nose
disapproving of my cobweb of hopes

she snatches up
neighbouring fans of soft colour
for her wings
and soars above me, a harpy
pecking at the day

though the morning is spent
tearing at my conceptual canvas
trying to turn her back
into vague, neutral shapes
I cannot unconceive her

3 comments:

Dorkmaster Flek said...

I hope that isn't an allegory for Marg and your plans tomorrow. :P

Anonymous said...

I enjoyed this.

shannon teresa said...

I read this many times. Liking it a little more with each read