I, The Swan

I, The Swan - The Sound Of Animals Fighting

I the Swan

Am beautiful and phallic Brushed

Canvas draped paint peeled

Gallons of something puddles

And you take the pictures

Hurl stones around breaths

There will be shadows and holes

I the Swan am beautiful and a desist

In space between being and idea

I the Swan

Am beautiful and phallic Brushed

Neck stiff a stoned image of different male

Words will work swollen kindered

Knees to the floor

Canvas draped paint peeled

Gallons of something puddles

And you take the pictures

I the Swan am beautiful and phallic

Canvas draped can I feel

I the Swan am beautiful and phallic

Canvas draped can I feel

He picked up a large white vase

And pitched it

Sharp porcelain lined the shapless pool

Of liquid formed by its contents

Of the man that pulled at my feathers

The artist the true manifestation of struggle

The shattered porcelain greeted

Back with fresh wounds

Memories To be naked

I the Swan am beautiful and phallic

Canvas draped can I feel