Exhibition Dancing I (The Waltz) Poem by Gary Witt

He asked was there ever a time when an artist
Would brag of his palette or brushes or oils.

She said no I don’t think so why he said well
Yesterday I was in star bucks and overheard
Three guys comparing the size of their
Hard drives and software each claiming the other’s was
Ancient and slow.
Well I think they all study art at the college,
‘Cause soon they were arguing who had more gigs
On his pixels or cad or whatever for drawing
A clear illustration or representation,
Achieving perspective with high resolution,
Believable skin tone and colors that range from
The vibrant to muted (or something like that) ,
And it suddenly dawned on me these guys are bickering
Over whose oil paint’s more lustrous and whose
Brand of canvas or brushes are best not to mention
Which one’s got more room in his garret for storing
His sketches and paintings and stuff so I wonder
If that’s what true art is about now: the RAMs and the
ROMs and the bits and the bytes; not emotions or
Feelings or sketchpads or still life or landscapes or love just a
Video game.

She said I’m not so sure those guys really
Were art students they sound more like engineers.

He said my point exactly then she said no really
I think they were just engineers.

He was stunned for a moment, then said most politely
Oh.
Yes.
Of course.