The Art And Mart Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Came in the crowd of upwardly mobile,
Enough cash in their private pile,
More informed of the mart
Than finer points of art,
A kind that values a folder,
To contents of file is colder,
To whom package is more
Than the product in store,
Where substance serves to style,
One can smell them from a mile.
Yet, nation grows art when grows,
When art is loved for art's sake,
Not when art to auctions owes,
Not when millions are at stake.
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Happenings | 01.10.05 |