You Are My Favorite Work Of Art


I was never good at art.
I remember in the fourth grade
I called my art teacher a lesbian because
I despised her and her criticism.
My colors were always outside
of the line, merging, getting mixed.
My cuts were never clean, and
my letters always crooked, sideways
on the page.
What is bad art?
Could it be how your words
sometimes come out all shaky,
and in the wrong way?
Like when you’re too excited, so the words
shoot out.
Or is it how your chest concaves a little,
when it should be one smooth line?
Maybe it’s the little black speck
on your iris that interrupts the
hazel green ring.
It’s quite possible it’s your raw and
honest emotion.
So I ask you, what is bad art?
Well if you asked my fourth grade art teacher,
she would say bad art doesn’t meet the standard.
But if you asked me, I would say it’s you.
So take all of my money at Sotheby’s because
I’ll raise my paddle and bid on you.