They always put the wheelchairs
behind the goals. That’s how Frida
and I met. She was sketching me.
I was sketching his shirt. I love
the recklessness of his upturned collar.
I will use it for my next self-portrait.
We make things visible that are
not visible. I make goals out of nothing,
Frida makes many Fridas visible.
I don’t get out much. Diego does
the cooking. I cover his murals
with mirrors. I paint what I see.
Remember my kung fu at the Palace?
When the merde hit the fan
you give me a Mexican wave.
It was a wave of dismissal. I’m bored
of petty Napoleons. Like the ball you kick,
you are just a bag of wind. Goodbye!
Au revoir to you, mon petite sardine!
Your eyebrows are like my drawing of
the seagulls that follow the trawler.