MASTER: After visual artist Kerry James Marshal
Master. At least. This you owe me. For I serve you well. Before I leave. Do me this justice. Paint me. With Hog Bristle. Baptiste me. In Oil. Pour me on canvas. Uncompromised. Unapologetic. Holy. Basquiat passion. Crayon crooked. Crown of thorn. Last supper. Popping bottles, breaking bread. With righteous homies. Make this your great commission. Make your servant divine. I too deserve. To be. Painted. Majestic. Christ Like. Knife grind me open like Picasso cubes. Paint me by number. What colors do you know? To Paint my portrait. There are a million shades of black. I am all of them. Uncompromised. A million shades of black. I am none of them. Unapologetic. Sky below feet. Clouds of moonlight. Pregnant to sweat. Sorrow and granite to paint skin. Paint me. As lost boy. As town boy. Black boys. Don’t get lost in the dark. We become it. Codify my smile. Calibrate my survival. Paint the rising and setting of spirit. I have been with you all this while. Watched you flower in renaissance. Staring. At how you make broken things breathe. I am past redemption. Too ugly to live with time. Still. I ask you. Paint me. Leave nothing to imagination. When oil is dry. Masters will flock to see me hang. On the line. Gallery 2. They feel safe here. Watching a boy hanging. Out of breath. Strange. Fruit of labor. Pay price of my entry. Dada and surrealism. Contemporary abstraction. Batter boutique politics. Do me this justice. Burn this painting. Collage the ashes. This will be my portrait. This accurate reflection. Make me stay. Forever. In this frame.
