The Curse of Art

 Art always seems to love itself – like self-licking ice-cream…

‘Fuck It’,

like La Giaconda,

wears enigmatic raiment.

A Glaswegian curse

with an eye for detail.

‘Bollocks’

throw convoluting

Baroque curves,

part the Red Sea.

and pull aside

the curtained shroud

of New Romantic PC.

‘Ya Bastard’

the dark pigment

of Old Dutch Masters.

The finger plugging

fissures in the Dyke

‘Shite’

the homespun daub

of the existential

excrementalist.

A cubist’s

rudest bullshit;

the anecdote

illuminating crap.

‘Go Fuck yersel’

the Sistine ceiling

over the heads of those

who already have;

or don’t know how.