The lilac are in bloom and we're stuck in the Bronx

• I sit next to two-hundred paintings..I NEED THE COLOR/IT STIMULATES MY HEART.The feather boa is flying in the wind/garbage trucks honk on their breaks/the sea-birds swoop past the window.IT is idylic and consentrated slice of the pie. I know we are going to reep the benifits of the work that we have already done /yet we can never be sure / doubt lurks at my very core. I WANT TO SMOKE MY BRAINS/EAT CHOCOLATE AND SWIM IN A HTEL POOL. When the clash comes /where will we be /the clash isn't even a reality / the only reality is the bank account/how will we pay the taxes on our farm / how will we be able to shop at thrift stores without feeling guilty that we are spending rent and food money. When I LIVED WITH NO OVERHEAD I FELT GOOD /this New York burden grates my nerves...