To the Artist's Page To our home page
To Part I To Laura Fletcher's next piece
Sexual Invalid, Part II
Eraser tops that wiggle and wrist snappers showed affection years ago.
What used to work, hurts.
So take off the rings that don’t prove a thing and scratch the paper,
rub it with a pencil, and call it art.
Anger is art.
Mediocrity is no sin.
And velvet, panne even, is as warm as an invalid needs.