r i g h t  h a n d  p o i n t i n g

 short poetry  short fiction   short...uh..art
 

 

     
  Larry D. Thomas

As Picasso Died

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he breathed with the roar
of cosmic gears grinding to a halt,
his hands gripping the ghosts of brushes,
his brain a swelling aneurysm of light,

his soul a canvas just beyond his body's reach
his ghost brushes strained toward
struggling to fashion a flawless god
from the drawn and quartered face of a lady.

 

 

 

o

 


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