Four Lines

Love of splash in shady corners
drives the lone graffiti artist
to spray graphics bold and shortest
heeding neither law nor orders.

Heeding neither orders nor law
an artist paints on walls plain bare
round-bellied letters with wild hair
declare where I do dare to draw.

When I dare to draw or paint rhymes
words and lines dance free in the air
I give them weight all they can bear
but it’s not my weight nor my times.

Not my times nor even my weight
lie under the rhyme and the sound
I dig through the lost and not found
for the one way to box my freight.

For the one way to freight my box
leads me onto old crooked roads
of sound, only sounds are the loads
that hold the tock of my rhyme’s clock.


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