The first task in Zoe Quinlan’s Macc Writers’ workshop on 1st. February was to sketch our neighbour, not with the customary words, but with pen, pencil, whatever we had to hand. We tentatively set to work in pairs, most of us managing some sort of credible likeness – providing they were viewed from the right distance! Here’s a bit of nonsense, the best I could do with an art-related writing exercise.
With his eyes he caressed me, assessed me
and the gaze was disarming but lewd
and on canvas, possessed me, undressed me.
It was brazen and terribly rude,
so his portrait distressed me, obsessed me
when I thought how it might be construed.
I couldn’t handle the public scandal
as they flocked in to see it and queued.
Under the heading, next to T. Emin’s bedding:
“Still Live, Still Alive: Declining Nude”.