Do I care,
says Time
if it's Mona Lisa
or David?
To use a polite
term, and a novel one at that,
I smoke on art
You say
in your naivety
or pride of accomplishment
your art is forever,
for all time -
well, tell me about it...
I lay out dust on your works
and I have agents to eat your stuff
You may use varnish
and restoration
and conservation
may come in handy
but hey - I've got plenty of time
to do my work
Ah, you proud beauties
and you arrogant, virile males:
I'll do the smoking;
you enjoy the smoke in your faces
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem