Starving Artist Poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Starving Artist
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We thought him rich in all respects,
admired and lauded by his peers,
cynosure of every eye, constellation,
delight akin to dog's tail in the skies-
why, he was our be-all down here!
But he proved to be all too mortal,
a philosopher in rags propped up
by flimsy rhetoric, a thing of little
moment in the great scheme,
and we his colleagues in crime!
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
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4/19/2024 5:06:10 AM # 1.0.0.1119
