Sunday, September 13, 2009

The Art Of Dancing Is A Form of Spitting

Artisanship's an expression, like mindless slang or the bitchy
platitude. A vociferous assumption, a tic like masturbation.
A few artisans have eyes fully aware of the politics around
their macaroons of artisanship, some simply don't care about
the baker, churning out recipes to make the baker sweat, wake
the eater's sweet palate, make him eat, make her eat, his cake!

But I am a critic, with another set of tics. The politics around
the picket, the racket, the rockets of artistic dancing/sulking
is my job, my eyes' slippery cookie. Who am I talking to? Good
question. For others may see my essays' Expression. Artisan will
merely shrug on his rug, carry on with masturbatory vomit, fart,
so I say: I do not expect artisans to have minds nor have hearts.

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