The Artist Statement is Below
Masculinity
Rage boils under my skin
I have felt it growing like a cancer in me.
It is too comfortable,
A warm fleece to wrap myself in.
The trees tell me I can’t visit after dark,
An educator brags to me how proud she was to take creativity away from a young child,
Management paves paradise for a parking lot without notice,
Confronted with another infusion of radioactive venom,
I decline.
I extract myself from a myopia of frustration in spectacle.
In these days since I
bounce between buoyant glee and the muscle aching weight of carrying the morality of others.
Having let go-
I find myself on a farewell tour,
of a place I have called home.
I am afraid of the work,
you see,
I embrace everyone that approaches.
too many people tell me they feel trapped, others worry about me, some just say it’s sad.
In wander, I eat mulberries by the river.
Tombstones pull me to a place we have made for
All of us to contemplate about what we leave behind.
Cloisters pray for the burned husks of giants
Reaching towards the heavens.
Cause and effect is myopic,
It seems like the past, present, and future-
are one and the same here.
Everyone says I seem better
they ask, what’s next?
I genuinely do not know.