Blood on the Sidewalk
Perhaps I should not spill
my blood so freely,
letting my heart pour it’s life
in the open, where everyone can see.
It is unseemly, this blood
draining so slowly, so openly,
glistening real.
It is disturbing, and hopeful both,
A signpost that says
this way is dangerous,
almost deadly,
but not quite.
About this poem
The picture was taken Monday evening in New York City. The liquid is milk, from a dumpster around the corner. But in the black and white light of the night, it could have been anything.
Those of us who share our story, whether in words or pictures or conversation, are also signposts, whether we realize it or not.
Tom
Quarry House 
this makes me think of something the cartoonist r. crumb said, when he was being hasseled about some of his work being misogynist. he said, maybe i should’ve never let it out, maybe i never should’ve done it.
but the artist and those s/he touches would be much poorer for it, i think, if the artist never let the blood flow. and some artists really have no choice.