Call Me Dave

David Bowie
came to me
in a great big dream.
I’d just finished talking with Salvador Dali,
he’d been teaching me how to make a million
by signing empty sheets of paper
he’d left all his stuff
hanging around.
I said
Mr. Bowie
sorry ‘bout the mess
He said
hey brother
call me Dave
He threw his guitar into the air
spinning spinning
it shattered into a hundred stars.
Look isn’t that beautiful
he said
I had to agree
I hadn’t seen anything as beautiful
since I’d seen a Sorolla
burning in the middle of Madrid.
We stayed a while
watching the falling stars
floating to the ground like butterflies wings
until he caught one
in his open white hand
and passed it to me
smiling from his eyes.
Art is nothing more than this
he said.