The Blind Art Collector
(for Fran Lebowitz)
Writers have to know things...musicians don’t.
A child of eight can write a symphony..but cannot write King Lear.
A child of eight
Can paint a house, their dog and mum and dad
The garden grass..the baker’s van
But not that ceiling in the Vatican.
A painter needs to know .
The child of eight has inside urges inside
Born from a small narrow thought
He does not share
‘My toy,’ he screams...he grabs at everything
The child of eight does this...
When he grows up..he struts his stuff
Not knowing of things deeper
Than blue swimming pools
He soon mutates
into the Blind Collector
The Blind Collector sniffs the dollar bills
To him they are as sweet as flowers from
The land of ancient Babylon
It’s paint and canvas in a vault.
That scribble art
A Larry Koon’s Balloon
He grabs at them...’my toys’ he says
He needs no knowledge of the World for this.
What have you there she asked ?
Picasso he replied.
But which Picasso she pursued ?
The one that cost 250 million
I outbid the rest.
‘My toy’ he said.
‘Your toy’ she smiled.
The only thing that changes is the price.
Kristine Byrne 20th November 2013.