In today's society,
nobody appreciates fine art
except the fine artists.
That is a truly depressing idea.
For the sick
the dying
the starving
have only been infected
and murdered and starved
by lack of art
in the world.
The people who pay the artists
don't even appreciate fine art.
They peer, they watch, they
wonder, they whisper, they
interpret,
they rip to shreds.
But they do not appreciate.
No. You must be a fine artist
to understand fine art.
Because fine art is bits of soul
wrapped in brown parcel paper
and tied with bits of string.
Shipped off somewhere
exotic
to be re-
discovered
and re-
assembled.
Tiny pieces
of glittering
ruby dust scatter the landscape,
and sunkisses shine
through a perfect
stained
glass window.
A brook of robin's eggs gently murmurs
along and sleeps
peacefuly, there in
the darkness.
Waiting for someone to discover it
and turn it into
art.