The Fall of Art

First there was magic,

incantation;

pure bulls

walking the walls of Lascaux,

bull leapers in Knossus.

Then worship, altars

raised to heaven,

to earth;

Aphrodite sailing

her shell-white body,

Christ ascending

on his cruciplane.

And then perfection

worshipped as magic:

Phidias caressing marble thighs,

Michelangelo creating

David’s consummate curve.

Now we bow before

ego-scrawl,

subway canvasses

posed on pompous walls;

the id-beast loosed,

numbering the earth.