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Forget the gossip.
Consider the sound of straw rustling,
haystack after haystack
surrounding the countryside
and stars sizzling in the night sky.
Paint has a sound
brushed on a board.
The inner ear is azure but
first the middle, the tube,
Eustachean,
an entire pallette,
sticky, tacky,
too many layers applied
one over another
before the last has dried.
Swallow hard.
Hear that pop?
That clean canvas moment,
perspective falling into place
the angles all right
the silent horizon
just a line, a life,
a space between pigments.
*New theories suggest Van Gogh may have suffered from Meniere's Disease.
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