Francis Bacon's painting Study after Velázquez's Portrait of Pope Innocent X.

This was the subject of my latest poem.

Brick (white)
Matthew London

I know you sat on a chair
and that you had a face
quite like all the rest of us.
An arm, a leg
they keep on
moving.

Most men on a Sunday morning
are less than you.
So, what are these God-lines I draw?
Stroke with this brush,
thistles
could have been made from horses
horse hair,
that is how
it once was.

Know this,
I can’t make you like God did.
I will allow you the purple
and a grey-matter throne
to rest on
for me
though.

Despite a triumph with
gold stamped coins
and
an ornate dome for your
Basilica,
you’ll lose your eyes one day
flesh as well.
Still
I won’t be able to see you
as plush velvet on the inside of you r coffin,
but who you speak for
will
without a doubt
notice a change, back to what you are.