to the artist of Endelicio
i
the tall man in his sixties
when we enter your house
says that shattered glasses
are bad for feng shui
ii
your garden chair is a mosaic
of broken glasses matching with
your lampshade of broken bottles
and your floors of broken tiles
iii
it is cruel to hear that they
view you not as an artist but
a mad man
iv
you in your gray hair and thin
structure and old skin
looks decent enough for me
and struggling with all your
art works, paintings, sculptures
paper mache and stuffed animals
v
outside a gray cat is basking its
body under the morning sun
on a stone bench beside the
banana trees
vi
i take a lot of pictures of all your
stuff
and this is the first time that i
have met you
having heard of your name and your
cafe cum gallery
a long time ago
vii
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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