Modern Art Sestina

On Sunday, Zack and I went to drink beer by a creek
He drew, I fished, then said, “Hey Zack, please let me sneak a peak?”
He wore white pants, white shirt, white towel, and looked “the arab sheik”
So solemn, like a Mona Lisa, and he did not speak,
His brush – a bow, and like a Paganini, streaked, streaked, streaked.
And then, stepped back, threw paint around, and thundered,    "STRONG or weak?" 


“It’s umm, it has a certain, mmm, je ne sais quoi – it’s weak”
I felt like such a heel; a welcome drowning – the creek.
His towel unwound, and like a ghost fell in a sad white streak.
His eyes blazed fire, and his voice screeched through his vulture’s beak,
“A zero at Art! Plebeian mind – do not speak!”
He grabbed his towel and stomped off.
      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Your beer = my beer, angry sheik…


I took his masterpiece and ran behind my ghostly sheik,
Pheew,  from hard work of fishing, not from beer, of course, was weak.
But someone called me, “Hey Pete, stop, wait up, and let me speak”
A friend of mine, big Mack, old quarterback, fished in the creek.
“Hey, Pete, so you do art, that’s cool – but  I am past my peak.
But now, I’m in taxes and with that, I’ve hit a streak”.


He talked and looked at parts of horses: head and tail streaks.
And mumbled, “Wow, this is good, profound, even chic,
That horse and barn depreciate together – a smart pick!
This painting is something! Did it take you long? a week?”
I stumbled at this take on art, my beer fell in the creek.
And then, Mack’s friends came over and they too began to speak.


“Hi, I am Matiss, I hope you do not mind if I speak,
Your art – it’s bold, such imagery, a transcendental streak.
I am in home design and while fishing at the creek,
I thought of right Feng-Shui for an apartment of a sheik.
But Western art’s passe, scrap metal sculpture’s rather weak -
Your horses’ ears mixed with the tail – I’d say – artistic peaks!”


“ Name is Ron, a farmer,- so try a peach, it’s my first  pick”
His drawl - molasses, ears swelled as he began to speak.
“I theeenk this iiiz no aaart, this horse looooks  mangy, seeeeck and weak.
But that’s a good John Deer – you drew, well that is what I seek
and dang Matiss, don’t sell our tractor to no Arab sheik”
And that’s how Zack and I split his first million at the creek.


So when I sneak to a museum to peak at bold artistic streaks,
I do not speak, just wink at chicks who walk by dressed so chic,
And if the Art is weak, just close my eyes and think of that cool creek.