Poetry by Willie Smith
Get up. Go down
in the kitchen.
Leave off the light. Pour
and drink in dark water.
Return to drainboard glass.
Gaze out the window
over the sink at Jupiter
beside Antares – Rival of Mars,
Heart of the Scorpion. A red supergiant
about to explode. A giant planet
too tiny to ignite. Wonder, daydreaming
tonight, Jupiter blazing a dozen
times brighter than scarlet Antares
(a question of perspective),
where on what scale do these
my thoughts fit?
Gazing out my kitchen window will never be the same.
Gee — I just realized that Walter Sickert is the English painter whom crime fictionist Patricia Cornwell tries to frame as Jack the Ripper. Most flattering to be associated — however distantly — with such a high-profile scandal. I read an article in the online GUARDIAN just this morning that proves with equal convincingness that Walter Sickert was not Jack the Ripper, but in fact Dracula. Better yet. Thanks for choosing such a fantastic artist to go with my work, VITA BREVIS! Seriously, I always learn something about painting every time I read a VITA BREVIS poem. You’ve got a great concept and you are thereby broadening art appreciation, as well as poetry appreciation, among your readership. Thanks so much for all your hard work!