The Artist Poem by Robert Brendan

people like him
get dropped on the skin of
this earth
by god
or just a womb
about once every eighty
to one hundred
years
the first time he painted
with acrylics
he created something
that people
when they see it
say looks like a photograph
that got wet at the edges
his second chance at
acrylics
he ripped something onto
the board that
when people see it
they always say
something
it draws them
and paints them
real value
one board
fall into each stroke
and wonder at the
critics and installation
hacks
find his
work if they were
lucky someday
but then
they would have to come over
to my house
where those two paintings
hang
for my friends to see
and some of his