draw like a child, wild, carefree, place fingers on clay, wet with water, let the wheel shape, smooth, soothe away pain, i hang in galleries, oil colors, old wooden frames, they want to touch me, own me, be me, hold me forever, like a sunset, a sunflower, stars, constellations, my world is an inner universe, they go mad for me, seek to possess beauty and truth, they stare at me, just stare, as if i’m their mirror, and i am, looking back at them, from the past they see me, i am goya, picasso, matisse, van gogh, kahlo, o’keeffe, joan mitchell, betty woodman, they have paid for meals with sketches of me, teach me in classrooms, with crayons and paper, portraits on refrigerators, i matter more than taxes, money is eventually forgotten, me, i live forever.
Daniel W. Polk 