A Restless Young Man I was a restless young man, Presto agitato. However, I wasn’t the head-banging sort. For some odd reason, while My art school classmates Nodded to punk, the Sex Pistols Or Redness, a Cleveland band – Thin, ragged kids who bolted And welded sharp steel sculptures – Late at night, in […]
Poetry: Master and Pupil
Master and Pupil by David Sapp When he was a young man, an earnest but nutty art student, Charles Robert came to my door painted head-to-toe in Ultramarine Blue, seeking advice and turpentine. Even then, he could have been a blue Krishna wooing Radha. Now colleagues, he is the swami, and I remain, as […]