Glass Poetry Press

Volume One Issue Three

Jessica Colley

The Reason Picasso Hangs Over My Bed

If I placed pineapple in a can on the table at my bedside, would you drink the juice after fruit was consumed? Straight from the can or should I place a teacup there to pour juice into while we eat slices one by one? When I send you the paper with each letter of the alphabet typed and spaced, in upper and lower case, will you send me the digital version of the font you create from the 50's Remington you gave me? I want to use it to describe the distorted reality your mouth provides. The painting my body becomes. Limbs, exaggerated forms. Light on my eyelids, almost white. The center balloons. If this poem helps you to understand, will you sketch the way I feel when my eyes are closed? We are in the kind of painting where a guitar only slightly resembles a guitar.