ARS POETICA
Sir, we have read
without compensation
and no more than usual
recourse to your rum
your entire oeuvre.
We have some questions:
Why no tempo?
It's all one glissando,
as though rubbing sticks together
could generate passion.
We divided on the issue:
What aspect of your work
is the most heartless?
The poisoned floss,
the severed necks
of old women? Others
chose the headlong
celebration of rules
or the brokered hypocrisy
of your critique of sin.
—Tad Richards