Van Gogh Mono
Can I get a witness
to my mental fitness?
Does the wall
upon my clock
drip with paint?
Is my total being
what the Tic Toc Man is fleeing?
Does the harlequin
within me
see its fate?
Does the pendulum that's swinging
see the fluid time it's flinging,
'cross the landscape
that makes up
my mental state?
I see my world turn yellow
with a charcoal lifting halo,
for the arc
across the sky
has brought me hate.
Is rejection what I'm fearing?
to be shunned and pushed away?
I've got problems with my hearing.
Cut my ear off yesterday.
Van Gogh
hears
in mono.
Everybody samba!

©90 JDH