"Art Purge"

 

When a puppy and a baby in a homemade video

Discover each other for the first time,

Or a bird and a kitten with each other are smitten,

No one is more brought to tears, than I'm.

 

For me, emotional reaction as an art form's objective,

Should be near the top of the list.

After intellectual involvement, opinions expressed,

Or a metaphorical punch in the face with a fist.

 

No blood, of course, no lesions--

No consciousness fading away,

But an invisible bruise on the encephalic regions,

That throbs in our mind, every day.

 

Art may move us to question the life choices of others,

Or better yet, question our own.

Not just react like a dog to a Roomba,

Or when he eagerly gnaws on a bone.

 

Too much art relies on imagination

(To which people with access are few),

For enlightened and perceptive interpretation.

Of course, I'm not referring to you.

 

Ultimately, we all have our different perspectives,

As we bring to the table what we perceive,

And we draw our conclusions like TV detectives--

Or magicians with nothing up their sleeve.

 

But really, doesn't that make it all worthwhile?

When to everyone, different meanings emerge.

And while some art may be dismissed with a laugh or a smile,

Or perceived with the critical tools of a child,

Or categorized as enslaved to some overdone style,

Or the inexplicable need for a gastro-intestinal purge.

 

B. Kite -- 3/16/2023

 

Done