Form is her attire;
She leaves color for the younger ones.
The argument for desire
Is as simple as the Arno that runs
Brown and sometimes white into the sea.
As simple as fire,
Simple and easy.
Form is her attire,
And by the second stanza you can see–
If you observed closely the Mississippi–
How simple and easy
Is the argument for desire,
As simple as fire,
In a rush, but lazy.
Form is her attire.
Leonardo Da Vinci said painting is geometry
And further, what is real
For painters is the point, which is immaterial.
The vanishing point of my argument
Is to point out where form and color went
In the argument for desire.
Form is her attire.
She does and does not want me.
She has no quarrel with the painterly,
But geometry sees where we belong.
Precision melts into an artful blur.
Desire says I may not precisely see her.
Poetry tramples her to get to song.
