some change
comes gradually

in our art
comes gradually

your art
will confound you

your art
will disappoint you

your art
will watch
the same goddamned shows
and listen
to the same goddamned songs
and tell
the same goddamned jokes
day after day

your art
is your lullaby
of words
offering comfort
to ideas
its lyrics
needing change
so rarely
since the world
and ideas
it describes
like the lines on your face
are naturally
quite slow
to change

art is an act of attrition
a commitment
to eroding way
art's annoying
eternally recurring

you must
come to peace
with art's annoyances
so it can return
and will return
its gift
so long as you can tolerate
its snoring
its tired old stories
its shitty driving
its dirty socks
and hairy legs

and your art
will love you
in spite
of your jealousies
your vanity
your lousy ways
with money
your bullshit 
and your lies

like love
is an act
of eternal

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