the house grows smaller
with each step I take
walls pinching in
a carnival room
your chair in its corner
worn like a molar
a trick you still do
blowing smoke from your ears
refusing to acknowledge
how old we have gotten
the moles on my back
growing swamp lilies
the turn of a head
looking into a mirror
Published in Open Arts Forum on .
"I want my art and writing to have humility, to be clear and void of deception. I want my audience to see without distraction, to feel I have not wasted their time with pomposity. I want to create bold, clean images and write simple, declarative sentences that cause people to confront their humanity." --Dale Patterson, July 18 1949 - Oct 19 2025.
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