it did take guts
to get up here
and stand
stark naked
in front of all these people
with all my man parts
just a flappin
in the wind

but here i am!
and there they are
all peeking at me
from behind their easels
studying me
drawing me
painting me
whatever!

and they're all
seeing me supposedly
and reflecting upon
their own interpretations
and commiting them to paper
or canvas or maybe
even the bark of a tree
one can't be sure
the easels hide all
but i do know
they all bring with them
a different view

some are reflecting upon me
with watercolor
making me oh so smooth
flowing
and soft and light
like a mellow breeze
or a glass of
pink lemonade
some are using oils
with their deep bold brilliance
and heavy strokes
and textures
they make me STRONG
i kinda like that

then a few
have charcoal to show
the many contrasts
in me
between dark and light
many shades many moods
using little patchwork patterns
to create the world i live in
behind me
some use fluffy oil pastels
to display an innocence in me
in full sprintime colors
that look perhaps
a little spotty
but youthful
so i'll take it

some will add lots and lots
of detail
trying their darnest to
capture every last nook
and cranny and wrinkle
and imperfection
for i am but
the human condition
and others will paint me
in the abstract
with three eyes perhaps
and a member the size of
Toledo
flattering yes!
accurate?
well...
why not take a closer look?

then there's the minimalists
to whom i'm not much more
than a simple stick
with stick arms
a stick face
a stick smile
and the cartoonists
oh those crazy fucks
they bend me
and break me
all over the place
like a big funhouse mirror

they all think they see me
as they splash
their visions
onto a little slice of
immortality
telling the world
just what exactly
they think i am
even though
they don't even know me
or really wanna know me

they just wanna be praised for
their rather astute views
of a person silly enough
to stand before them
exposed and free
with nothing to hide
trying to stand so still
so they can catch the best glimpse
and report back to their many art gods
who, no doubt expect perfection
but usually settle
for something somewhat
less

and me
at the end of the day
when all the paints are packed
and the brushes washed
and the masterpieces
are turned in
for that all-powerful grade
i just put my towel on
and go home
and i look at myself
in the bathroom mirror
now that's the impression
that really sticks!