"life is art," She says
as she throws a brick through a car window.
"The path you walk paints a picture."
Pulls the latch from the inside.
"Your words poetry
yet to be pared back."
Open the door, the glove box, and rifles through,
"your actions live theatre."
She takes a pack of gum and a notebook
"you want to make art?
Well first step is to live it."
She puts her head down and lifts her jacket.
"hard to make art when it's esoteric.
Easy when you find it everywhere."
I follow her down a side street.
Then another.
"You get a feel for it; each step a beat."
And the city seems to become a labyrinth.
"You control that tempo; you just need to find what yours is.
We come to a door cut from corrugated iron
"You'll come to see it. It just takes time."
Knock. Knock, knock. Knock.
"Just act natural,
we're all friends here."
The door opens. Metal scrapes on concrete.
"who's the new kid?"
"He's with me - sorta my apprentice."
"Gotta a name?"
"Nope, not yet."
"Guess you're just new kid then...
New kid...
New kid...
You know I kinda like it.
Got a nice beat to it."