art

The purpose of art

Is extremes

You said

It should tickle

Your funny bone

Or wrench your gut

No use just

Making you smile

Or pucker your mouth

In sadness

It should make you

Get up from your seat

And roll on the aisle

Convulsed in laughter

Or it should shred

Your innards

Like a serial killer’s

Serrated knife

Milking every ounce of pathos

Tragos

If it doesn’t do either

Art is purposeless

Nothing is more

Poetic

Than unrequited love

Betrayal

Nothing is more romantic than

The illusion of the marketer

People are waiting for him

Success stories are so

Predictable

So boring

Give me a failed product

Any day

And I will show you

The magic of art