The Street Artiste

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We see the illegible logo that he scribbles with insouciant flair,

"Duh, I'm me and I wuz here!" but why would anyone care?

 

Like a little boy playing Advertising, gathering make-believe market share,

he scribbles "I'm me and I wuz here!" as if anyone would care.

 

Perhaps he does it to meet the challenge of some idiot juvenile dare,

scrawling "I'm me and I wuz here!" as if anyone would care.

 

Under some imbecile's impulse to lay his empty soul bare,

he scribbles "I'm me and I wuz here!" hoping someone would care.

 

Some fools try to tell us that this is exquisite artistic fare,

this stupid "I'm me and I wuz here!" about which no one can really care.

 

But if that's true, then our street artiste should sit in a university chair

and teach "I'm me and I wuz here!" to those few who actually care.

 

In dismay at civilization's decline, at this mess we can only stare;

why would "I'm me and I wuz here!" ever make anyone care?

 

If they knew how he dishonors them, his parents would tear out their hair;

but his "Duh, I'm me and I wuz here!" shows that he just doesn't care.

 

The "works" of this moron Michaelangelo we hope would become extremely rare;

no more "I'm me and I wuz here!", when no one would really care.

 

For what he does upon our walls a dunce cap he should wear,

for scribbling "I'm me and I wuz here!" for people who just don't care.

 

He steals a load of spray paint and goes out on a tear,

scribbling "I'm me and I wuz here", desperate to make anyone care.

 

He fancies himself a commando, penetrating his enemies' lair

to scribble "I'm me and I wuz here" in the hope that his enemies will care.

 

He's really such a worthless nothing that he has a hideous nightmare,

that he scribbles "I'm me and I wuz here" and even the cops don't care.

 

The scribbler and the celebrity both make a perfect pair;

both say "I'm me and I wuz here", but give no reason for anyone to care.

 

He blatantly posts his logo out in the public square,

to declare "I'm me and I wuz here", but people are too busy to care.

 

He might as well be non-existent, like a picture drawn in the air.

He scrawls "I'm me and I wuz here", but just can't make anyone care.

 

He sulks and pouts in self-pity and cries that it's just not fair,

that he scribbles "I'm me and I wuz here" and nobody bothers to care.

 

We gaze in disgust and dismay at the paint drool emblazoned there,

at his "Duh, I'm me and I wuz here." But who could possibly care?

 

Desperate for some human attention, he finds a blank wall where

he can scribble "I'm me and I wuz here". Maybe someone will care.

 

I see his illegible smear on a wall and I certainly must declare

that his "Duh, I'm me and I wuz here" is nothing about which I care.

 

It spreads across a wall like the visual equivalent of a sour trumpet blare;

that "I'm me and I wuz here" that seeks desperately to make someone care.

 

If you try to stop him, his sissy-weak temper will flare

because his "I'm me and I wuz here" is supposed to make you care.

 

At the city crew that paints over his mess he can only stand and glare.

His "I'm me and I was here" vanishes because the city simply does not care.

 

He tries to appear spooky and dangerous to the people he wants to scare

with his "Duh, I'm me and I wuz here", but nobody's going to care.

 

The deadly sin of vanity is truly a moral snare.

Those who cry "I'm me and I wuz here" make it hard for others to care.

 

He's truly a soul-dead zombie with only one thought to share:

"Duh, I'm me and I wuz here." But how could anybody care?

 

It's not as though he has better things to do. He had plenty of time to spare

to scribble "I'm me and I wuz here" in the hope that someone will care.

 

"It is what it is," he says in an expression of existential despair

and then scribbles "I'm me and I wuz here" for anyone who might care.

 

At the sight of this scrawl upon his wall the owner must certainly swear

and erase "I'm me and I wuz here" because he just can't be bothered to care.

 

This nihilistic cult of celebrity has become too much to bear

with its endless "I'm me and I wuz here." People, I just don't care.

 

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