The blank, beige canvas stands before you— Higher than your eyes, Wider than your outstretched arms, Leaning blankly against the studio wall, Surrounded by finished and unfinished works, Like promises kept and unkept. Splattered paint cakes the wood floor Beneath your feet. You stare so hard, you feel like you can see The hidden pattern in the tooth— Yet nothing comes. Then, as small as the tiniest invisible tear An opening appears. Slowly, slowly you pull it wide. And behind it you see The greatest party You've ever seen in your life.