Wednesday, March 21, 2012


pablo (soft pastel on inkjet paper on illustration board)

The days are beautiful

I came from outer space
Bringing small cakes
Made from the
Mix of the white dwarf

I came from outer space
With no reason for it
My hand black
And filled with gold

I opened the can filled with soup
With my black hand
I entered the cooking room
Putting the pan on the fire

I got on what was left of my knee
With a ring I made my case
You turned into me your eyes
Folding me into light

A baby was growing in your mouth
It was black and gold like my hands
You opened your head up
I was in the living room

I could hear you dreaming
The days were beautiful
I realized we were dying
And held you as you ate a salad

I hear a dog barking
It is my dog
She is yellow and filled with stars
All the days are beautiful