Van Go
(A Poem by Jim Slimedog)
Van Gogh
He sometimes ate his paint
When he wasn’t using them
To create masterpieces
And now companies
Buy them up
50 million, 60 million
And up
They’re trying
To buy
What resided
In his heart, his mind and his soul
They’re trying
To purchase
His beauty, his perfection, his art
And they’re throwing
More money, more money
In a futile attempt
To grasp
What is and what will ever be
Out of their grasp
I think
They should try eating paint
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