there are few options
in life
for conducting an existence
as an artist
who fell onto hard times:
the first one is to find some
work
even if it pays a pittance
the second one is to work
on his own specific art
and suffer hunger spells
amid depression –
it’s incredible how galleries
treat an artist –
well now/ the artist said
nearby my place the woods
will sing
so let’s go/ let’s explore them
if at the beginning being
thrown to the wolves
let’s find them and become
a wolf-whisperer –
the laughs heard are those
of spirits
who still share in ironic trains
of thought
but still support the artist with
one smiling eye and the
tearful other.
zoltanzelan
zjg-poetry’20.
