The Exhibit Poem by J. Farrell Griffin

The metallic rattling of the "el" overhead,
The mischievous wind rearranging our arts and crafts; Now we're saying maybe we should have stayed in bed-
If our enemies knew what we sold, you'd hear a lot of laughs. No one cared about our celestial "Star Wars",
Nor our grubby and garish "Emmet Kelly";
And did our peaceful mountain scene make someone sore?
Or did they rush by to dill their bellies at the local deli? Or joint project, the book, seeks to cheer a reader,
But no one wants to turn off the TV for a book.
I guess maybe we "artists" need a strong leader
Who can translate our message to a world that only looks.