I broke into an art exhibit
And stared shitting and pissing on every picture,
I slashed and spat
On ancient heirloom tomes of scripture.
I jerked-off, hunch-backed
On all the busts of beautiful people.
I mocked the biographies of the artists,
And I scoffed at deeply human expression.
I smashed the record-tables,
And carved psychotic ramblings into vinyls
Of talented composers;
“Chopin – Remastered by Pissed-Off-Pervert Labels.”

I broke into an art exhibit
And ruined the meaning of art.
I dulled creativity,
Tried to malcontent nativity,
And I fell to a proclivity
Of thinking everything was really fucking shitty.

I broke into an art exhibit
And hacked away at sculptures
Made of bed-posts and comforters.
I gargled vomit
The rust-red, chunky kind
And licked every wonderful thing I could.

I broke into an art exhibit
With a gallon of vinegar
And a flask of gasoline.
Got drunk on rage
felt sad and confused
So covered everything in kerosene.

I broke into an art exhibit
And I ruined all the paintings of pretty flowers.
I  ripped up tapestries
Tore down murals,
And what makes it worse?

It only took me a few hours.

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