Obelisk - Poem by Ripper Jones
Manet, do you deserve your reputation
For art as the eye perceives?
When we look at a crowd, we see but one person,
And all the rest an impression, NOT SOME people
In detail, and the rest a blur, a few brush strokes.
Were you really a genius? Or just talented –
As you would like to be likened to an artistic Baudelaire,
Himself a dandified complaining wreck,
Lucky enough to be of a moneyed family,
Exaggerating exotic tales of erotic places
And paying for it with a quenching Black Venus
And syphilitic breakdowns.
Decadence is not art in itself,
Neither is considered outrage.
Is this where you and your ilk went wrong?
Modernity passes to antique in the blink of an eye,
You did not capture the moment.
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