my first and only wife
painted
and she talked to me
about it:
it’s all so painful
for me, each stroke is
pain...
one mistake and
the whole painting is
ruined...
you will never understand the
pain...”
look, baby,” I
said, “why doncha do something easy—
something ya like ta
do?”
she just looked at me
and I think it was her
first understanding of
the tragedy of our being
together.
such things usually
begin
somewhere.