A long, long time ago, on a steamy summer day,
someone made some swashes and swirls
as they spread tar on their driveway.
Instead of seeing it as an act of overheated
boredom, I prefer to think of it as
strokes of pure, burning minimalist insight,
black on black, with little bits of red stems
and the edge of the sidewalk for added genius.
That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it,
so to speak.