This must be heart because it’s breaking my art, Big Sister in the sky

by Christos Polydorou


My momma said
To get things done
You’d better not mess
with Major Tom

I am staring out of
my bedroom window

over roofs (rooves?)
and tree-tops,

wishing for a forest. It is just
my

wilderness
calling

again.
I call back.

Ionesco wrote
an artist’s

one source of true
artistic inspiration

is oneself. That’s like
asking Narcissus

to kiss
his reflection

all over
again.

But within
the skin

alter egos
dance

a dance
of sin and pretty things.

I call back.
You respond.

You say.
I say.

It starts.
Middle part.

It ends.
It starts.

Who she is
is an objection,

an art object,
a reflection.

* * *

Imagine Jennifer Aniston
right now.

Don’t be a misogynist.
Curtail yourself from

judging your
performing sister.

I want you
to look me in the eye

and to promise me
that you will let women,

especially female artists,
be and do without

your vicious judgement
or your bullying.

Leave her be.
Leave us be.

You should see
what we

the nine muses
can come up

with
when you are

not around
to bully us.

This must be art
because it’s breaking my heart.

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