Slapdash just laying
paint down anywhere
no master it’s a mess
it’s in my teeth and hair
every stolen moment’s
Shouting at me from the bleachers
I’ve got no mentors no
And I’ve got no more teachers
maybe it’s all a confidence game
modern art a modern myth
maybe culture’s best produced
and packaged in some monolith
if so I hope they’ll overlook
my sorry little enterprise
as I refuse to stop and if
they don’t like it well damn their eyes
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