World Loses Great Artist(For Janice)

I remember it all so well can tell every... little... detail down to the although I can’t remember it at all. Told so often by my mother that I can recall it all her memory of the memory of me until it is so real that I really feel it for real. They, leave me a newly 2 yr. old to play in the garden thrilled by the grass between my toes gazing cross-eyed at the ladybird on my nose. Somehow (even then) I have paper & pen in hand but soon tire of scribbling masterpieces that no one notices (nothing changes) & so to relieve the boredom (I suppose) I take off all my clothes (nothing changes) delighted with my dangly bits (nothing changes) I take the asaid fore-mentioned biro in hand and draw in the creases I can see around my scrotum. Pleased with my self & its pretty patterns until arrested by the passing Military Police who call my mother out & inform her (I suppose) of some military code prohibiting the drawing of rings ‘round one’s scrotum. Thus, it was that severely scolded, scoffed, mocked & laughed at I decided not to become a professional artist.