Writing on the wall
I didn't mean to do it;I thought it was chewing gum
Clinging to the wall,
Now you tell me it's white Blutack
Bearing the thumbprint of a world
Famous installation artist and guru
Whose name is Aran Anon.
Tell you what, guv', I'll just put
The gum, sorry, installation
Back where I got it from,
Look there's even a sticky patch
To guide me, easy peasy, yeah?
What do you mean, I can't do that?
I know I'm not the artist and that
It wouldn't be his thumbprint
On the returned gum, sorry, installation
But who would know, who would care?
One thumbprint is much like another
To the naked eye, at least.
But Aran Anon would know, you say,
And he would feel outraged, you say,
At the thought of his gum, sorry, installation
Being touched, nay, vandalised by a mere
Workman such as little old me.
OK for the sake of the dignity of the artist,
Not to mention the possibility of lawsuits,
I'll refrain from putting the thing back
Without first contacting the artist or his
Agent or his gallery or his PR company.
I promise; now where did I put the darn thing?
Wait, don't move! What's that white goo oozing
From underneath your right shoe?
Poetry by Christopher Fernie
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Written on 2016-07-11 at 11:03
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