Flat Black

And then I thought," What's the blanking point?"
You do this then that. You walk the lemming trail day after
festering, messter-ing, pusster-ing day, and still no
headway is forged.

I don’t know, seems the humdrums are the main-drums of
a sane-drums existence. Insanity is under rated and under art-ed these days.
One eyed crooked naked ladies swathed and soaked in color are far and few between.
Had to be a bit on the woo hoo side to paint it in the first place.
But if you do and you are and you die,

You're a fi-millonaire.
One always leads back to the other.
And again I wrote,


What’s the blanking point?


By: K. Mulroney