Art

I sat on the girder of the
bridge, downtown
and had begun a drawing,
a river scene, when
a cop rapped his
nightstick against the steel
and told me come down because
it was against the law, he said
to sit on top of the bridge.
He was the porcine representative
of the local League of Philistines
against me, and
against art, and
embodying in snout-hood
the authority of city and state which
had the power to erase my drawing
and me: thus, I felt it prudent
to obey.