Henri Matisse, “The King’s Sadness” No matter how carefully you arrange your ‘do a hair will fall out of place. Install a yard of bluebird houses and they fill with shy, blue birds, until they house hordes of small wrens with sharp beaks and who sing all day long.

Henri Matisse, “The Girl with Green Eyes” Respect walks with air of mutuality stepping freely and with feeling — yet it limps when lopsided with agenda. Strange fur morphs this new beastie. Its smile shines with stained hollow pegs, baby doll eyes of emptiness, its every act now tainted with suspicion.

Henri Matisse, “Woman with a Hat” Promptitis or promptosis? An inflammation or a chronic condition? I call The Muse without a Prompt and She waits for Pavlov’s bell to ring. Nature stands mute and cats are just cats.

Henri Matisse, “Blue Nude” I’ve had three massage therapists over the last twenty years Masseuse One: fifteen years, super cheap, head to toe, loved to talk, which developed into a friendship, which ruined the massages. Masseuse Two: three years, exceptionally skilled, informed healer; inflation floated her above my pocketbook. Masseur One (3): cheap, in a…

Henri Matisse, “Dance” Poor circulation in my feet led me to Cloud Massager bottom rollers up and down, side to side, back and forth bellows open and close my footsies, gripping, randomly going through its routine of ecstasy giving. Please design one for the whole body. I wonder what one for the soul would be…