The poem might not frighten you, but Basquiat's pictures might. I don't know who wrote the blurb for the book, but the pictures are far from childlike, as anyone who is familiar with Basquiat's art would know. The book is ostensibly a children's book but I bought it as an art book and cannot imagine a child who would actually enjoy these harsh, self-referencing pictures. Basquiat had always lived it up on drugs and alcohol, but limited means bought limited supplies. The bounty that was fame and money for the latest, much-lauded inheritor of Warhol's Factory ethos bought him excess, brought him death.
Its a gentle childlike poem, yes, but its a hell of an art book to own.