Art Stacked Against These Walls

Increase faith in our process over fear of our failure.

Of all starving artists,

I was most content to be

poor, to own nothing in this world,

save the art stacked against the walls,

the life-sized paintings of Bohemian women.

My artist’s loft held uncertain

ruminations of pen and page,

the scripts of playwright, actor, and director.

I watched the luminaries

parade by with their advice

beneath my window; they were promising

and exacted their arts and sciences

as a woman compels her child

to perform with finesse, with

a futuristic style that promised

wearing a top hat, a cape, and procuring a rabbit.

Emily Isaacson