By Brenda Mox
Surrealist woman in a serious room,
a long bodied, emaciated
Modigliani
watched with great wonder.
No tennis playing, surf riding doll
of the west was she.
Just a bag of bones,
a floppy broken stick,
a maniac.
Her sweet smile glowed
in neon redness
yet grew solemn among the flushed
faced fools drunkenness.
Tears of sorrow in her brown eyes
absorbed his soul into her mind.
Strolling in mysterious streets
his lanky love made a sad retreat
beyond the shadows on fleeting feet.
Brenda Mox is a poet and visual artist from Virginia. Her work has been published in Wingless Dreamer, Bewildering Stories, Blaze Vox, Down in the Dirt, Ariel Chart, Neo Poet, Discretionary Love, Corporeal, Academy of Heart and Mind, Edge of Humanity, Poetry Pacific, Poetry Pacific, Poetry for Mental Health, The Amazine, BarBar, Basilisk Tree, Edge of Humanity Journals, Eber Wein and Eastern Sea Bard Anthologies.
Academy of the Heart And Mind 