Analysis, the fungus, creeps
Into the viscera and heart,
And probing hyphae of critiques
Fill with exogenic parts
The body of creative art.
Traps curiosity like a fly,
And in a web of explication
Wraps the struggling Why, Why.
But even while mass spectacles unfold,
Some hardy form, deep and watchful, lies,
Till fashion in a mass extinction dies,
And greater art can radiate through dark and cold.