Picasso Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Picasso



These chains are wreaths of Dali
Backward circles dancing like fear
Her legs of marble leopard grins

Glass made of time
Cordial corners of grace
Blue fields where the moon freezes

Bonds made of prisons
Her fingernails scratch the world
Death crawls like a gold sword

Picasso became a pimp

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Joseph Narusiewicz

Joseph Narusiewicz

So St Paul, Minnesota
Close
Error Success