Art Is Dead My Friend

ART IS DEAD MY FRIEND ART IS DEAD. Whitewashed and derailed, By modernism vacuous hand. That scream empty metaphors. To cash rich sympathisers And con-ceptualists scamming our intellect, with their o so profound egotistical postulating. About the nature of existence, And meaning of being. But it's all smoke and mirrors. A three card trick. Unsatisfying unnourishing. Greasy burgers for the soul. What would VAN Gogh do? Probably pluck out an eye, And sew an ear to his head. So lets have a moment silence, In this hour of grief, As I whisper "art may you rest in peace".