Moleskine Poem

Here's a scan of the poem I did for the Moleskin Project; I'm no artist, as you can tell! I'm used to a bigger notebook . . . it hides my scruffy handwriting better!

 

It is very difficult to read, so here's the poem typed.

 

Drawn Together (he thinks.)

 

I adore contemporary culture

and take every effort to attend

each local event and gathering,

so I'll frequently make a new friend.

We'll bond over spirited banter

with the odd glass of Pinot or Pimms,

displaying the depths of our insights

that are far beyond fashionable whims.

I'll claim art must provoke, not pander

to popular tastes for jollity;

if it doesn't disturb or threaten

it's patently poorer quality!

Oh, look, our latest arrival,

she appears reverential and awed,

she'll appreciate my commentary,

My discernment's so rarely flawed.

She's nodding away in agreement

so I'm starting to wonder whether

it's the time to suggest a drinky?

Love of art draws people together!

 

Drawing Away (she's thinking.)

 

I've not come in here for the culture;

truth is, I'm avoiding the rain.

I'm just not that keen on arty types,

they seem so precious and vain.

Where do they learn to talk like that?

What the heck is "rhizomatic?"

Who decides what goes on display?

I've got much better stuff in my attic.

I really don't see any point

in pictures that don't aim to please,

that seem to be dark, ugly and smudged,

about depression, death and disease.

This guy behind me is far too close

so I think I'll just nervously stare

in the hope that he'll soon cotton on

that it's clear that I just couldn't care.

Damn, I can see where it' s leading,

why am I so far from the door!

Please, don't ask me out for a drink.

Once again, I've drawn the short straw!

Done