Still LIfe

Walking to art class, faced with painting still life for the first time

I remember, quite vividly, the assortment
sprawled with lackluster effort
were my thoughts at the time
as green as the pears slumped,
exhausted from demanding poses, sideways yet
no argument slipped from the lips of
the long-faced orchid,

lilted under the splendor of
the promiscuous orange
peeling off her tangerine gown, showing
off her stained glass complexion.
My drunken fingers fumbled uncertainly,
with the crude, bristled medium.
I would not kill them for rite of passage,
they were still...life.