Is It All A Load Of Pollock's? Poem by Mark Heathcote

We live amongst mortals wanting to be immortals
So ask who is satisfied with life content. Tell me, speak.
Please my eyes are open like two diagonals A4 blank pages
My tongue a bookmark of some distant narrow ages
'I cannot disguise the looker from the on-looker'.
The best of me wants always to be a good lover
Loving you only you.
The worst of me wants only to use you.
And, thereafter leave you.
My thoughts are simple and as complex as
Paintings by Jackson Pollock
How do we abridge-
These mixed mediums of disappointment and expectation?
Do I drip my paintbrush wherever feelings take me?
Do I explore my pallet, these otherworldly multi-universes?
And break all unnatural universal sacred laws
Why because a person has shown me some carnal interest.
Why because I need some egomaniac praise to take off
My undergarments, expose and express some inner self
Use them as my next canvas to uncover something real in myself.
To reveal the next masterpiece sculptured Venus de Milo.