portrait fermenting

the serious thought came from below
the frame was empty at that moment
in the air is the light is my sudden love
who was he in that time who was the marker
that marked the page who he thought
he might yet be in this new time the marker
marked the thought still the actual frame
was empty its rustic construction un-
encumbered by any given stain Or

was that man still painting in Springfield
was that song still in production
at the theatre centre or maybe in that bar
the crows mill school was the idea finally
brought to light your ... sentience an
anamoly or am I now a peasant boy
just buy a new white shirt take home
this bottle of wine from your painter
friend have yet another sip and stain the
paisley from that memorized and unremarked
reaction yes this flesh is just what you
must be this time around it is all flesh
to be accepted

in the frame the face
wearing the days so well
the hair is tangled still
so very long
the wasp flies audibly
from one brief thought
to this one
now

the sting no longer the governing memory