Abstract

I do not have an abstract mind;
I need words for emotions, shapes for art

but give me paint to
chuck at a canvas;
let me dip my fingers into it, wind my arm back
and then            fling
and let that represent my mental state, a gash of red
against plain white

let that be enough:
the musty smell of the paint,
the splat it makes against the canvas,
the coolness when I smear it on my arms
without caring about the clean-up;

let that be enough
(please)
to get this shapeless feeling out of me