WEBVTT

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You'll see many
references in my book

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to the business dictionary.

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This next one is a double guitar
and song in iambic pentameter.

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And it addresses
the issue of fight

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that I had with
my ex partner, who

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was a painter, about what was
easier to paint or to write.

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[LAUGHTER]

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And here's my argument.

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[LAUGHTER]

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Why would you
rather be a painter?

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We have our disagreements
about paint, the use of words,

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and which art is
the least corrosive

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on the heart, which
makes the best amusement

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ride for pure escape.

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No taint of childhood's mess to
hold you back with paint I say,

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a tube of Naples yellow rests
apart from cruelty or cliche,

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no beast inhabits
daubs of thalo green,

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but hint at even
such a word as love

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and I am bent like
Sisyphus beneath the stone.

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I'd rather scrub the
fungus from the tiles.

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[LAUGHTER]

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Give me a brush, some
pigment, and my eyes,

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I will render where I
would have left alone

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with words, the peace
inside spreading for miles.

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Of course, this is the lie.

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This is provided
I can paint, which

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is the lie that language
tells and further illustrates

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the hell that lurks, a tarry
pit, beneath bright sentences.

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It is that thing that sense for
rent of words that I despise.

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Dictators dwell in
palaces of words,

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while peasants swill the
backwash of those lies.

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Time someone went and
told the emperor of words

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he's nude or better yet
simply burn his speech

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and force him to
pick up the brush.

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This pitch of mine
has dictatorial tones,

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but made of nobler
stuff I hope, if it

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teaches that those who can do
and those who can't, bitch.

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[LAUGHTER]

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