There is an axiom against changing horses
in mid stream but I have no real choice
Fortunately I am on dry land
and although I have been galloping along,
paintbrush in my front paw,
I will dismount and saddle up
my writing pony.
Let me roll the finished canvases
and stack the dried paper
before I depart to Paris where the room
I have to paint is limited to
the spread of my lap.
I will paint in words or scribble
in jumbled letter-form.
Did I mention that the apartment
I have inhabited these past ten plus years
in Paris had once been a stable?