I'm in Love (Through rose-colored Glasses)

 

Through rose-colored Glasses 68 x 42 - mixed media on canvas

 

 

I’M IN LOVE

 

with the portrait of a certain poet

composing a few wet verses

in her bath. Little kid’s in love

with the ball he’s kicking around, would

fight to the death for it. I know someone

in love with the youngish Iggy Pop, his hebre-

phenic squalor, his flexible graceful damaged  

body diving into an audience. But it’s Iggy’s need   

to be loved that he really loves. A certain poet   

loves Black Sabbath channeled through Wolf Alice

on Giant Peach, the live version, and I love

Italian cities in the first chill of morning, smelling

of espresso mixed with chocolate, brioche crumbling

through my fingers while I stand watching workers  

reading pink colored sports pages, nervous, twitching,  

longing for a smoke, and who look up whenever an elegant  

woman walks by, which is often, and I love that the men know  

instinctively when to raise their eyes. I love it that 

my wife stands on her toes whenever she’s ecstatic.