Of what is drawn
And painted is a record,
Of truth spoken to all,
best in it's shit-toned colors,
Not of the respectable
gloss of A-list exhibits,
Of cannibalistic dead-head survivalists
and the legions of cultural necrophiliacs,
breezily observing the
burning embers of this world,
much so, feigning empathy
as well as decent human heartbeat,
But well of no real perception,
No surprises. Given the obvious cranial emptiness .
No comments:
Post a Comment