American Art

Look around, it really is a gallery place,
Where we put faux pagodas, painted gates,
And ideograms on display between characters

I understand the people but none of the signs,
I assume bad translations abound here,
But it is not my concern to critique them

I am not marching for the cause of realism,
and the sake of tourist photographers,
I am strolling for a painter up in the rafters

Who will notice the black hat and coat,
Standing out in the crowd full of colorful people,
My details good enough to capture with a stroke

Color and balance, while still penniless
These are the powers I bring out tonight
Among the crowds roaming in Chinatown, DC