Poem of the Week |4| Rant inspired by Art Show
Rant inspired by Art Show
‘Woman – the myth’ it was called
– de Beauvoir sprung to mind and talk of constructs, formations and other interesting isms spoken by bearded dreadlocked hippie types whose eyes have glazed over due to hash or Maryjane as the one wearing the ironic Che Guevara beret would call it as he munches Aldi brand Pringles looking at the wall beside
the picture – itself the putrid fluorescent bile of the forgotten child whose parents were overly protective producing a thirty seven year old who wears a kimono with doc martens, a top hat and fish nets and hugs you and says it was nice to meet you but secretly hopes your wallet is open, ready to splurge on cultural capital, alternative art, collage pulled from skips making po-mo look medieval, stick as many skittles on a page as you can and exclaim
Oh the world is going to hell because cameras are watching us
and
TV has us zombified and aren’t I so ironic and self-aware to be willing to pay €250 for this tangerine monstrosity , a refresher bar’s entrails glued to the wall splashed with tippex blocking out any random pattern desperately trying to emerge.
Oh Yes I’d love to pay 35 euro for a fruit of the loom cream ill-fitting shirt that I’ll freeze to death in while showing my fashionably protruding ribs and collarbone, it’s part of my feminine mystique, the need to be seen as fragile, doll like and emaciated.
Please define me or give me something to define myself with, preferably in 8×10.