My Moleskin Project Poem.
Here's my effort for The Moleskin Project; as is evident my artistic talent is negligible. I normally use a much larger notebook too, at least A4 which seems to help my handwriting. It is very difficult to read, so here's the poem typed.
Drawn Together (he thinks.)
I adore contemporary culture
and take every effort to attend
each local event and gathering,
so I'll frequently make a new friend.
We'll bond over spirited banter
with the odd glass of Pinot or Pimms,
displaying our delicate insights
that are far beyond fashionable whims.
I'll claim art must provoke, not pander
to popular tastes for jollity;
if it doesn't disturb or threaten
it's patently poorer quality!
Oh, look, our latest arrival,
she appears reverential and awed,
she'll appreciate my commentary,
My discernment's so rarely flawed.
She's nodding away in agreement
so I'm starting to wonder whether
it's the time to mention the pub?
Love of art draws people together!
Drawing Away (she's thinking.)
I've not come in here for the culture;
truth is, I'm avoiding the rain.
I'm just not that keen on arty types,
they seem so precious and vain.
Where do they learn to talk like that?
What the heck is "rhizomatic?"
Who decides what goes on display?
I've got much better stuff in my attic.
I really don't see any point
in pictures that don't aim to please,
that seem to be dark, ugly and smudged,
about depression, death and disease.
This guy behind me is far too close
so I think I'll just nervously stare
in the hope that he'll soon cotton on
that it's clear that I just couldn't care.
Damn, I can see where it' s leading,
why am I so far from the door!
Please, don't ask me out for a drink.
Once again, I've drawn the short straw!
