Grafitti Artist

It's toxicity, the kiss of the spray paint,
the caress of the wall, as if it was the sea,
or a woman, as if it was that bitch-goddess
art, that slippery, elusive mermaid, art.
Or so my imagination tells me, while I paint my
tag upon the wall, my name, my soul on fire.
Art, the bitch goddess--if I'm caught it could
be two years in the slammer. Art....