Hey Jack J ack, why did you slash the wrist of your immortal muse? Did you stare as Red idioms pooled? Dripping, seeping, spilling, pouring streams of skillful consciousness soggy on the soles of your boots, leaving tracks along Route 66. Allen, the hawk stopped by my garden for breakfast today Majestic menacing brazen magnificent. Can you imagine having Bukowski as your mailman? And what would you Say to the academics when they ripped Billy to pieces, while his back was turned. © 2009
Original art by Dove Cochrane. I have really great art posted here, and some crappy “learning experience “ art. (Just to show the creative waters don’t part every time we artists lay our bursh to canvas.) Along with my art, which I hope you will love, you’ll find a bunch of words written by me about art and my life experiences, poetry, and opinions. If you’re interested in a particular painting please email me and we can talk privately about price.