the artist

they interview
the artist on public
radio.
the soft music,
the rustling
background noise
of birds
on the sill, brushes
and canvasses
being handled
and set up
on the easel.
you hear the sipping
of hot
coffee,
the settling of
things as the interviewer
moves in
and gently asks
the first question,
knowing the artist's
penchant for being
grumpy
and abrasive. so,
she says, if I may
ask, and please stop
me if you want, but
tell me about
your blue period.
the time in your
life when all you
painted with was
various shades and
tones of blue.
your wife was ill
then, wasn't she,
your dog died, you
had a nervous breakdown,
is this why
the blues, the constant
use of blues?
he shakes his head
and scoffs.
no, he says.
I was poor and it
was the only color I
had to work with.
now go away.