The poets and the painters were breaking bread at dawn.
There were memories to last a lifetime, but all the love was gone.
The parties had all started the way most these things begin.
Paul was looking for a lover and Vincent brought the gin.
Mary Shelley brought old Frankie, who couldn’t last the night.
When Claude caught a glimpse of him and was blinded by the sight.
Blake was drawing demons from these visions that he had.
Walt looked up from leaves of grass and thought they weren’t to bad.
Oscar slung some insults, his wit caused smiles and some pain.
And George dropped by as Mary, and now Mary is happy again.