The Menace to Fine Arts

You only have
To make it ring,
Make your nonsense
Nonsense that sings,

To know that you
Have done the thing.
Doesn’t matter
How well it swings,

If it’s profound,
It it’s truth stings.
You’ve done it now,
You’ve done the thing.

You only need
To wind the string
That pulls the wheel
That flaps the wings.

All crafts are toys,
The ones with springs,
The armored ones
That sling and fling,

The snake-eyed ones
That cling and wring.
You’ve done it now.
You’ve done the thing.