What is art? A picture comes to life.
A poet makes a picture. But pictures must be brought to life.
To create a picture, the painter’s life
Is full of agony and despair. But more, still, is needed:
The painter has to give the picture life.
The only hope is this: we look at life—
And see how small and mean it is.
The only hope my poetry has:
Even love fails at love and ends up all alone.
Today: people going to work, their mouths and eyes dead.
I’d rather look at stone.