.
.
That the markers, rethinking the
portrait they drew,
(having made you too wide and
too fat, muttered ew!
wideness and fatness in rats
wouldn’t do!)
in the middle of trying their
best to construe
the pure essence they sought to
bring full into view,
decided to cut out the center
of you,
and then sketch in that lady in
back, lent no clue
what to make of this less than
spectacular spew
.
that this Portrait of Artist as
Rodent came through
to reveal. To what was this mis-markered
art being true?
Did the markers do this on
their own? Very few
of the rats we subjected to
this interview
.
could communicate anything we
understood.
Only one rodent muttered while
chewing on wood
it was clear as the mud was in
his neighborhood
that those maladroit markers
were up to no good.
.
But who wielded those markers?
I asked cautiously.
Whoever had done this, it can’t
have been me.
The mutterer answered, if I
didn’t know, how could he?
I face the same locked door. I still
lack the key.
.
.
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