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valid points all
i'm at a loss
except to feebly
write
"Outsider Art"
but as so many have already pointed out
if it has a label
then it already is invalid
'once the music leaves yr head it's already compromised'
punk
rock
if I should go outside the wolves would come to eat out of my hand just as my room would seem to be outside of me my other earnings would go off around the world smashed into smithereens but what is there to do today some tears are laughing without telling tales again except around the picture frame the news arrived that this time we would only see the spring at night and that a spider crawls across the paper where I’m writing that the gift is here the others putting ties on for the holidays that we’ve already had it for the nonce and that it’s just the start this time around if they don’t want a centipede then it’s the horse and bull that sticks it into him so that the lights will come on afterwards and in the papers everyday misleading pictures of the families who beat their kids so that they can be copied by the likes of me who paint and sing again because the blackbirds at this time of year have always been like that they straighten themselves out if they can manage one more time and so the world goes on and if it wasn’t for their own self interest none of them would leave his house without first taking it apart as well they can and this time it’s my turn that makes it worthwhile clobbering this worthwhile man who doesn’t strut his stuff day after day and if he hits the jackpot this time it’s not his to win but goes to those dumb boobs ahead of him and one more time he’ll end up in the small boat like you know and see ya later cuz today’s a holiday and they’ve cut out like they were looking one more time to yank the stick back from the man who made it so the chestnuts would be roasted and if not for that to pull them out again the partridges would all return on their own steam because it’s all a mess already and if not just have them say how many times what’s true has been a lie and if it’s still not they should count from one to two and three to seven the result would always come out wrong albeit of pure gold and if it doesn’t pass this time around he simply swallows which is good stuff for the navel as it always has been in his house and in his neighbor’s who is there inside and afterwards they’re fried up and we have to take the plunge so that we may be always friends like always and that once for always not just for today to make your mind up just a little if they ask and let them pick the thread up seeing afterwards the fans they’re holding fade away - Pablo Picasso excerpt from The Burial of the Count of Orgaz,
& Other Poems, 1935.
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