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Mar 2016
back then, when communism was
heralded on the fifth of may
to glorify work,
you had old people dump coffee
beans into the river because
no one told them what to do with it,
you had unselfish atheism back then,
you were encapsulated as a species,
fully noble to be categorised as
**** sapiens; but now you're not;
we're all artists now,
spare time writing wonders,
full time displaying unmade beds
in former power-stations of vast spaces...
i guess in order to provoke thought...
after all, congested spaces breed
claustrophobia, a display in an economised
space like that is no comparison to a
large open space where you sort of
have to attract thinking
about the most debased work imaginable
to be considered in the realm of being, a
qualifiable work of "art"... well, what do you expect,
qualifying an unmade bed as art will
give you insight into newtonian causality
(i know, einstein muddled it a bit):
to qualify an unmade bed as art akin to
the statue of david will eventually
quantify an expression of art in another
medium exponentially, namely poetry;
modern visual art is the reason why
we have an exponential increase in
poetic output - if the beauty in visual art is
missing or is abstract or just plain ugly,
people will turn to the 26 signatures
to simply un-imagine what's being plated,
by the time we return to the grander aesthetics...
well, by the time anything is accomplished,
people will have to re-imagine the body
by salvaging it from *******,
and poetry will have to depose what advertising
does to the phonetic units, with so many
fonts and copyright trademarks whatever.
Mateuš Conrad
Written by
Mateuš Conrad  36/M/Essex (England)
(36/M/Essex (England))   
661
   bex, --- and Gidgette
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