The Art of Ai Weiwei
A hundred million poems in a single space,
Myriad sunflower seeds spread the place,
Each one a story to unfold,
Made by souls with lives untold.
Five hundred and fifty thousand coloured Lego dots,
The ceramic spouts of two hundred thousand pots,
The steel from ruins of a deadly quake,
A company named Fake.
Your reality is jokey but I can’t ignore
That it shouts a truth oft spoken before.
It makes a link we instantly know
And then the memory is forever so.
You challenge power fearlessly
Yet change your argument endlessly.
"We see everything and we don’t see anything.”
But making sense, you show us something.
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