Alex Nodopaka7 years ago If Lee been a man her art was superior to Jackson's. With that in mind I submit a friend's poem that says it best. ~~ The Beast I Call My Own In memory of Lee Krasner I don't paint nature. I am Nature. Jackson Pollock Another time, dunes dissolving like tears as we wrap each other in blankets of regret, Jack sips his iced tea, crushes ice like he wants to pour it into a flask and me not caring. He is sober. That is all. Brilliant and sober, even drunk he bests them, even in bed, de Kooning knows it. He rode in from Cody Wyoming, lassoed me and then the world with his lariats of paint. Even Peggy with her crotchless panties has an eye for art. Except mine. I am that LK person she despises, I am used to walking two steps behind. you would think it would help that we are members of the same tribe, self-loathing Jewess whores. Still I trust her more than the others to keep my Beast in line. Shrinks telling him to drink all he wants, not one understands a "real" alcoholic. He is a "real" artist, this one, and so am I if talent counts for anything. If he is Caliban that would make me Sycorax and what then? Rimbaud would have hated me for translating that line on my studio wall as "The beast I call my own" and yet he didn't know Jack did he? For that matter, did anyone? ~~~ Laurie Byro Reply You must have JavaScript enabled to use this form. Your name Comment About text formats Plain text No HTML tags allowed. Web page addresses and email addresses turn into links automatically. Lines and paragraphs break automatically.
If Lee been a man her art was superior to Jackson's. With that in mind I submit a friend's poem that says it best.
~~
The Beast I Call My Own
In memory of Lee Krasner
I don't paint nature. I am Nature. Jackson Pollock
Another time, dunes dissolving like tears as we wrap
each other in blankets of regret, Jack sips his iced tea, crushes
ice like he wants to pour it into a flask and me not caring.
He is sober. That is all. Brilliant and sober, even drunk
he bests them, even in bed, de Kooning knows it. He rode
in from Cody Wyoming, lassoed me and then the world
with his lariats of paint. Even Peggy with her crotchless
panties has an eye for art. Except mine. I am that LK person
she despises, I am used to walking two steps behind.
you would think it would help that we are members
of the same tribe, self-loathing Jewess whores.
Still I trust her more than the others to keep my Beast in line.
Shrinks telling him to drink all he wants, not one understands
a "real" alcoholic. He is a "real" artist, this one, and so am I
if talent counts for anything. If he is Caliban that would make me
Sycorax and what then? Rimbaud would have hated me for translating
that line on my studio wall as "The beast I call my own" and yet
he didn't know Jack did he? For that matter, did anyone?
~~~
Laurie Byro