Subsistence Poem by Sean Green

Look to art as subsistence
creation turned without regret
other than the time not spent
doing the same in past tense

this absence asks far too much
invention lost to ticking clocks
salvation gone without a grace
something surely took its place

still a life deserves the chance
to recoup what's meant to last
imaginations roused from sleep
with a last hurdle to defeat

if only masters did demand
perfection as their mandate
deny this trap to finally bend
art turned to subsistence.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.20191030.