**** art's established 'Powers That Be',
They're not interested in the likes of me,
Young or dead and I'm a hit,
Old and alive? I can forget it.
I refused to kiss their shiny shoes,
Or shamelessly lie and falsely enthuse,
Or mingle with bores,
To open a few doors.
Sure, it would be simpler to avoid the hard slog,
Perhaps spend all day sitting on the bog,
Excreting **** for The Turner Prize,
But why compromise?
No, I'll keep painting my way,
Poor and unknown every day,
And after I'm dead and painting no more,
Those Janus-faced connoisseurs will be knocking at my door.
Feb 4
Feb 4, 2026 at 6:15 PM UTC
**** art's established 'Powers That Be',
They're not interested in the likes of me,
Young or dead and I'm a hit,
Old and alive? I can forget it.
I refused to kiss their shiny shoes,
Or shamelessly lie and falsely enthuse,
Or mingle with bores,
To open a few doors.
Sure, it would be simpler to avoid the hard slog,
Perhaps spend all day sitting on the bog,
Excreting **** for The Turner Prize,
But why compromise?
No, I'll keep painting my way,
Poor and unknown every day,
And after I'm dead and painting no more,
Those Janus-faced connoisseurs will be knocking at my door.
