I am actually a huge fan of Banksy and thoroughly enjoyed Dismaland but the A level kids I teach at a school just down the road from Weston couldn't get in because they've got Art P2. We wrote letters and sent emails but had no reply. They were very disillusioned by it all so their art teacher decided to take them to Dismaland and show some of their work on the grass outside. Security were not impressed and called the police. We made a film about it and I read this poem at the gates. This is the first part. So this is where this tale will start, Of What is Banksy? Who is art? You're the joke now, don't you see? This ****** ticket lottery, For crazy cats who play the rules Not you poor buggers stuck in schools Canβt press refresh at the stroke of ten Cos that's exactly the time when the bell rings for art to begin The irony is lost on him. No tickets in your grubby hand Cos schools cant afford the broadband. Don't look at me with dismal faces You lot sure are going places Yep, you're all sat on a train Going to weston in the rain Who do you lot think you are? No movie queens nor a rock star You don't fly in from LA You don't even have a card to pay No Damien's, No Brad. No Suze. Pack up your dreams kids, Born to lose. Like a load of buckets to the factory gate Where we'll have to stand and stand and wait He is not Wonka, he's not your friend, This Charlie gets nothing in the end. So looks like we might not get in, Stare them down kids, take ours to him. Banksy Inc. has made these choices, But they can't silence all our voices. Helllooooooo Banksy? Are you there? Going to show these kids you care? Open up those hallowed portals For this lot of mere mortals? They've brought stuff they want to show It's really very good you know Because they made it from the heart Not for a calendar of street art You know? Like how you used to be? Before they showed you on TV. They protest about stuff for reals, And soon be snapping at the heels Of all the London folk in there Sell for a million but pretend they care. Come on Banksy they'll be good Take their selfies like they should. Come on Banksy, just be nice, They'll snap up all your merchandise And shuffle round the park like drones Take out pocket money loans. Listen kids, this isn't working, Banksy's in his rolls and shirking, We don't need to storm the walls We can show them we've got ***** By standing here and giving free What they've all spent five quid to see.