Except Camouflaged
Except in camouflage, I share nothing, wittingly or unwittingly, there is hidden art underneath my art, a wily tailor with frantic stitches he mars and he mends, makes sudden costumes and then changes fabrics, recalls designs that he has only just found and revealed, he spoils, spurns, defiles as he decorates against him and with him, I am helpless, …


