Cathexis Northwest Press

© 2018 

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Still Life of a Crown, a Bowl of Apples, and a Red Sash

I desire deference says Crown.

Submission isn't 

as great and terrible 

as it seems. 

 

Lording in the upper left, 

Crown commands 

the paint to dry. 

 

Bring me my empire!

Show me my subjects! 

 

But paint sets its own pace 

 

Crown can only mutter. 

 

Bowl of Apples, looking sleepy and ripe, 

yawns.

 

Let me think about it. 

Let me make the decision, 

 

says Bowl of Applies in its sweetening.

 

Yes, Bowl, rest. 

All days are ahead 

 

coos Crown, gathering 

all the gold from Apple’s delicious. 

 

Red Sash, growing redder with wrath, 

shouts No! Bowl don’t just sit there! 

Your gold is going! 

 

But Bowl snoozes and snoozes. 

Crown cackles

 

I am becoming more myself. 

Sash untie that knot 

loosen up. Maroon now, 

 

Sash yells Let’s murder everyone 

and just be done. Red Sash! 

 

That splash of color questioning 

composition. Crown studies Sash,

wishing for a brush. 

 

Sash wonders how the paint will dry, in regicide or rot?

Nick Snow is an MFA candidate at UMass Boston. Between homework and work-work, he strives to find time for his own work.