Fight me.
—Caravaggio, probably
Caravaggio wanted to be a
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle
but he was a century too late,
his name already taken.
I mean, who the hell is
this other Michelangelo?
The Sistine Chapel doesn’t even have
chiaroscuro, light and dark,
like the Turtles joking around in
dank sewers, wondering why
there was no pizza at The Last Supper.
It’s just lamb or whatever but
I’m sick of eating catered meals when
the body craves intangibles
like fame and love and some golden gift
that lets us save others.
