Poetry by Dythandra

Note: Yes, this was once "Poetry by the Emo Child" but as Alex so accurately pointed out, she's not entirely emo. Another friend creatively assisted me in coming up with the nom de plume for our young poet.

The Hell It's Not Art

"Create" she said.

I looked at her, standing before us, self-assured.
So many before had stood there, in front of me.

Stress leave is often unexpected.

Still, perhaps this one isn't like the others...
She hasn't looked twice at the snakes,
twisting from the eyeballs of the corpse on my shirt

Maybe she'll be the first
Not to call my parents
(Like they'll be surprised)

I go home and begin my quest.
Art for shock's sake--Dali paved the way
And I know what works.

I get my sack and head out to the yard
It's been there, growing more artistic each day
So disrespectful to call it road kill
What once was crow.

Amazing, the power of a backyard composter
And a few of nature's most perfect little critters.

Ooze--my favorite.

I take my little avian pal,
And pile the parts that can be pried away from the ooze
Inside my bag.

Then it's off to my room.

My fine feathered friend
Provides all--the paint, the canvas, and...
Some new little friends who wriggle into my life
When I drop Mr. Crow to the floor.

I won twice with the masterpiece.
A hurried "A" scrawled as she rushed by and out the room,
And her bagged lunch she handed me later.

Somehow she wasn't so very hungry.
I think I will like being an artist.