Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Work is the enemy of art.

When responsibility enters the picture

the creative erection wilts like a limp petal.


In the same way that marriage ruins romance

effort assassinates the abandoned flow of artblood

but humans are the only mammals always in heat


I raced fate one time and lost

but it didn't bother me in the long-run

because I had already assumed the doom of a rebel.


I've been dead for years and yet

my ideas perk and my sperm swim

the butterfly and the breast stroke, sensual generations.


Whole new nations born of my indolence

Abraham spending his seed, collecting wanderers

folded into the work of art.

I answered over on the AC board...

Well said.