This was all so charming…

There was a bible written

Translated, transposed, transmigrated

Lifting up the soul with a victim of the terrors

Martin Luther pounding his treatises

On the cathedral door

Advocating for clearance in the dogmatic structure

Of the embryonic capitalistic world

Was it the beginning of socialism

Slowly translating into fascism?

There was no beginning or end to it

He thought, as he painted sunflowers

Within the caustic eternal glowering embrace

Of Gaugin

Constantly marveling over the sunflowers

The depth of their color

The catechism of their never ending length

From the advent of the wilderness

But Van Gogh was merely waiting

Merely biding his time

In chloroform nightmares

Festered over with the observance

Of prostitution portraits

When can we march, when can we not march

When can we merely just have a glass of

Chardant wine

Or vaporous absinthe

Or do we always have to find our way

Into the bedbug infested bedroom

To fuck mindlessly just to relieve the pent up

What? Pent up what?

He never knew. He only noted the history

Of certain artists, unable to take a chance of

Marriage in this material world

And instead defaulting towards

Aboriginal miscarriage of lustful aggression

Not far removed from the primitive man

Advantaging himself over the weakened woman

Van Gogh would paint in patterns

With Gaugin, in Arles

On the cusp of winter

On the edge of uprising socialism

That would soon convert into fascism

Van Gogh did not know this

Trapped in the remnant faucet dribble

Of Martin Luther’s hammer pounding nails

Van Gogh still believed there was

Bespoke religiosity within

Tethered to each individual

To match up with the lingering reverence of faith

There was a principle to it, for it

He believed

Where there was no deistic creation

There was still a Jesus Christ

There was still a garden of gethsemane

That he would try to paint

Which he never could

Before it would always draw out

His insanctimonious psyche

And get him rambling on

Into the deterioration of the bi-polar mind.