Magenta

It’s time to write a little ditty
With words of pathos from the city
The kind that tastes of penthouse edges
Alleys, parks, or eager benches

Let me name this piece ‘Magenta’
Full and wild, a deep eyed tempter
Hear it moan in shadowed corners
Sliding, cooing, taking orders

See that bead which pearls and glistens?
That’s the guy with good-time lessons
And the one alone, on lust
He’s the type they long to trust

But city’s rise then tend to crumble
At their throb, their peak, their home ball
So tend the soil, strong hands raking
Its seed is firm, its soul is aching

Magenta

Robert Knapman

Adelaide, Australia

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 14

Artist's Description

Of cities and men

Artwork Comments

  • butchart
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