The Artist's "I"

I ought to run him through, this callow twit!

Ogling Juna as he would a ham

Or a plague victim specked with sores and shit

Who does he think he is, or who I am?

Those who create ought to have more respect

For those they conjure out of light and shade

Scrutinizing each trivial aspect

Ignores the whole: all makers were made

The line between subject and mere object

Is far more permeable than it seems

Imagine the plight of images, abject;

The painted eye with secret visions teems

Proud reader, you are someone’s character!

Perspective rules, as you must remember