Seagull Attack

Suddenly, something went
for the head, and I
turned German
Expressionist, elongated
and aged in a vicious splatter
of American Abstract.

Through swoops, batter
and blur, I saw claws
scratch and extract
thick pigments, interrupting
watercolour assumptions
in my innocuous walk.

I think, observing
in furious whites
and occasional yellow
frenzies of angle and edge,
was a visionary eye
crafting something undone.

Now the physician is finishing
the image with pointillist
tracks, splashing tetanus
vaccine through avenues and cracks;
and as representation, when I am seen
I am more accurate than I have been.

Copyright © by Kevan Copeland