Consider the Artist

You’d do anything to be considered an artist.
Anything.
You told me the pain you’ve inflicted on yourself and your friends
In order to get the perfect brush stroke,
Perfect flash,
Perfect smudge.
Throw away your jewelry
For a hermit house life
But keep your watch in a drawer
To keep your mind.
You unhinged your jaw
For a mouthful of charcoal.
Dry lips sputter and reverse
Onto a canvas.
Stand back and study,
Black lines, Rorschach shapes and
Empty dusted spaces.
Wrinkle your brow, stamp out the picture.
Look at your feet and cut off a toe.
You’d do anything to be considered an artist.