..................................................................................................
The Poetry Of...
Jonathan Hayes................................................
VERA ICON
a black and red painting
the red on top
a simple image
children draw everyday
almost a circle
an image
painted every few years
and sometimes lost
before the paint
dries
THE PRESENT FIRE
doomed to be extinguished
ashes linger
to build
the supports of memory
ARLES
Imagine, that "little yellow house"
Held up by rafters of epilepsy and canvasses
And the screams of oil-paint fumes and gunpowder
And absinthe and prostitutes and blades and blood
One claimed to be a buddhist monk in his self-portrait
The other was a sailor looking for logic on land
Arguing over theology and vowing never to fall in love
Dangerous, their perspective of the chair
WAITING
The back
of her
bent neck
brown-skinned
w/ bone
protruding
a stolen
glance
behind
that
bone
protruding
& the horn
of a bus
arriving
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