everything seems so easy to the sculptor
who only has formal concerns
he feels the shape of his own creating

without a concept
he floats towards it
his hands follow the path of
the mythical genius

there is a satisfaction here
made from a constructed vision
the act is involuntary
birthed from egotism

i hate your art
it assumes no responsibility
i hate your art
you simply float towards it

there's a weakness in the milieu
beauty is assumed to equal truth
and the obsession with mimesis
dictates the market value