Artist (Poetry)

It seemed a great idea last night —
to paint the whole town red —
the sky that glowed — alive with light —
today finds dull and dead.

The dawn spins loud and crookedly —
he’s giddy with its pace —
perspective shifting radically
to alter time and space.

Those girls who’d seemed so gorgeous then
in glad designer rags
while posing — picking likely men
to buy them booze and fags —

have morning faces — sad and old —
the shine gone from their shoes
mascara-streaked pale skin looks cold
suffused with greenish hues.

Thought’s lone survivor struggles through
a grey internal fog
considers just a hair or two
of last night’s red-eyed dog.