I clapped my hands blue
Showered that artist
“sculptor par excellence”
With “Wows” hemorrhaging
from every cell
of grateful existence
for the celestial chisel
that impregnates
life into dumb stones
turned me into a dumb stone
for a mass of dogma
hanging from my chin
Frank Lisa IndiRa Francesca Roger Platt Cornish Martin
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sculptor-3/
