Everything is Art

The red spot on white canvas
evokes a bitter bile taste.
I look to God, up on the second floor,
Are you kidding?
Disassembling this broken pocket watch
that replays the same second
tick
back
tick
to find out why
removing every part
excited in this failure of synergy.
God is still pointing at me
as I loose my cool
and start tearing things apart.
The hour hand splinters its way
under my thumb
pushing out drips
that stain my collared shirt
with little red circles.