He paints in a large studio with high ceilings
There is a subdued, but sufficient light

He is not careful with the canvas
Reds, yellows, Blues and blacks are thrown
into it, unto it, through it

Sometimes he adds flowers for texture
Other times barbed wire
When it is completed he sets it on the front steps
With a sign

Make offer

He sweeps up whatever material is left over:
Shards of glass and Empty paint cans
placing it on the oil covered drop cloth
dragging it across the loft
it sits by the window until it dries

later
He writes a poem about it