Drawing Poem by RIC BASTASA

you draw a map
you make a landscape
there are people and children
and there are houses and trees
you put the wind
sketches of lines and shadows and
shades and blots
you pour this black ink
to make a night
and then you make waves to form the birds
flying away
you situate the fence upon an edge
they all fall down upon an abyss
you try to find
where you are

you are not there
and if somehow you are there
you are but a dot
you have no heart
there is no space where you can put it
there is no place
where you can make it beat
you do not hear it
they say that is correct
for you have long been dead
you refute
you take the revenge
you hurt
you write more words than they can think of
you tell them
this is poetry