Wine Poem by rich soos

I paint deep eyes on the white canvas
they collapse in determined melodic chants
and hunt the song of uncommon shadows

while I draw in the belly, shoulders, and hair
the stomach pulses with laughter
and the shoulders dance

the hair unwinds and becomes difficult
because the eyes begin to dazzle

the painting begins to watch my nervous
trembling as I reach for more drink

the feet are no different than the softness
of other painted feet
yet they pace the floor giggling madly

the clothing I paint loose

this painting is left undone

I will not watch the lips and fingers blossom
their own knowledge - I cannot

I sweep the studio clean
and go home to finish the bottle

tomorrow I'll buy a new canvas


from A Foreign Landscape (1984)