This piece was created as an original fine art commission and with art direction assistance from the client, Rebecca Lubas. She asked that I illustrate an original poem her husband, Joe McCarty, had written. He wrote this particular poem while she was away from home and traveling. The original piece was a surprise gift to him from her.

Here is the poem:

While You Were Out

While you were out, not too much happened;
but you like to be updated.
So, I’ve set below all passing events
to keep you posted of the changes.

The phone hasn’t stopped ringing since you left;
I report that your mother is well.
You’re paged by a Jehovah’s Witness
who wants to save your soul from Hell.
The only other caller
was a man to sell you insurance.
You wouldn’t be happy with him, I was sure;
so I described to him your health.

A raven flew in through the window:
in search of a bust did he flap.
On finding we lacked such a statue,
he opted to snatch my black cap.
All that he’ll tell me is “Never!”
(I’m not worthy of a “Nevermore.”)
You won’t be happy with him, I am sure;
but I can’t reach him from the floor.

A mountain of mouldering laundry
evolved to a level too grand:
It’s struggling to escape the pantry,
screaming “I think therefore I am!”
I worry my motives are impure –
its imprisonment is hardly fair! –
But you won’t be happy with it, I am sure;
And what else are you going to wear?

A snake has invaded my sock drawer,
and left matters in a sticky mess.
You won’t be happy with him, I am sure;
but he’s taken my sock for a vest.
And, on top of our refrigerator,
a wombat took his residence.
You won’t be happy with him, I am sure;
but I fear he’s decided to nest.

An allosaurus moved into your living room.
He’s scaly in tan and green.
He’s ten feet tall and not well groomed;
but he’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen.
His tail has upended some furniture
and he’s taken to wearing your clothes.
You won’t be happy with him I am sure;
but he just grins when I ask him to go.

All in all, not too much has happened;
but I set this down just to make sure.
I’ve greatly regretted your absence,
and keenly await your return.

– Joe McCarty