Dinnertime Conversation

In the afternoon, surrounded by,
If not creations, at least expressions
Of the many things I cannot say well
With my chosen tool, words,
splashing the walls, splashing paper
And the bits and bytes of the internet
With your efforts, best and otherwise
To say what words and color are never enough
To say. To say love. To sing the darkness,
The confusion, the light, to portray dance
In lines and white space,
Things, a mind, my mind swirling,
A devil’s dervish of thoughts,
Which you can handle, and emotions
Which are more difficult.
Which is why you write. Why you paint.
Why you spend so much time wrestling
With demons and their friends while angels watch,
Wondering less who will will emerge victorious
Than the entertainment value and what will be
Worth talking about at dinner tomorrow night
And what will be forgotten.