Gay Fay Poems
- Upon Having A Bush Sticker Mov...
- Snack Pack I’ve just understood: the longer the flight, ...
- Roman Fountain What stern face gives water at the ...
- Old Paint 'My paintings are my children.' Fool! Come meet ...
- Sarpedon Some read in bed. I listen, fall asleep to ...
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Comments about Gay Fay
'My paintings are my children.'
Fool! Come meet
An artist with no babies.
You bet she'd sell
Those babes for ready cash.
How glib to deign
my life's great loves
no more than painted panels.
It's true: my part in them
Brute, hard work
Like stretching canvas. But see:
Masterworks of their own volition,
They move with grace,
followed by my eye with hot delight.