I am throwing ash trays

I am throwing ash trays
onto cheap canvas
I purchased used
From a friend of a friend
who lives in his friend’s mom’s basement

Not only do I write poems
I make art with actual stuff man
I break the ashtray into a single point
Launch it like a baseball
On the square
and it becomes sticky
Like omission
Not quite lies but half truths
Just secrets really
that spread like a bloodied glass web

A cigarette burn point on a canvas
that has already been covered
with a frightening attempt at the Mona Lisa

The friend of a friend is in his mind
A high businessman
An artist among conmen
More worthy than the originals

No one can ever say again
that I don’t tell them
I threw it right out smack
in the middle of Mona’s smile
so it looks like her mouth is a bunker
of broken teeth that along swallowed
charcoal kisses
And only she,
not the dead men that kissed her,
survives

It is enough to disturb me,
but not to satisfy me

If she could speak
mouth spilling with clothed blood
She would say
Well that was uncalled for
And we’d laugh like old friends
Me,
already in ecstasy

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