A large segment of the population
No longer takes itself seriously:

Conceptual art, then, is better suited
to the rest (read: us).
We are the background behind a man,
a figure whose shape we define.

We ambush the present with meanings.
What kind of a work isn?t a landscape,
What kind of a work isn?t a portrait?
It may be considered a history painting,
The site of victory in a sunbathed clearing:
what we see here is likely a revision.

Any of these statements can be made only
if we can first obtain a viewing of the work.
It is not accessible to everyone,
including you, especially.
You may peruse the catalogue.

The critics will not see more,
they will not see us.
They will exhibit this ?Dialectical Image,?
with its angular blacks and whites,
a jungle populated by bird-like,
but beat-your-brain-out shapes,
in a place where the truths do not translate.
That is charitable to the ordinary man.

Caught in a field of histories,
enunciated in foreign tongues,
he doubts and begin to ask questions:

Light, white, justice and my daydreams totals
a figure and a feeling, not yet a field.
No excuses, no explanations, no complaints!
This makes me feel like a natural man.
I walk well above the horizon,
but my eyes are clouded and red, and my
knees can?t be trusted for marching.
I?ve worried my shoulders with a heavy head:
I can?t settle, either up or down.

Two conclusions and a lesson emerge from this crisis:
The needs you come to have are necessarily popular, and
stories can't be told if this nonsense is inadmissible.