How handy it’s to trade trivia, with easy obtuse minds
Their poetry of the ‘serious’ kinds, proses on their pets’ behinds
What tour de force is, learn from them, who invent it every day
Stays steady, arts’ travesty – “every ass likes, to hear itself bray”!

Yes! ‘Take and Give’ is the golden rule, of this herd of ‘intellects’
They find Shakespeare in each other, dumb charades of arty sects
If you ain’t them, how could you be then, one among the ‘False Gods’?
Who baptize art with tedium, and fear outcasts, by all odds!

A closed cabal, which lives in void, and breathes in platitudes
And grow on smut, their hallowed dreams, of hollow aptitudes
They molt their skins, but not their souls, serpents of gangland
They sell their souls for baloneys, to meet muck’s soaring demand

How deaf and dumb and blind could be, a leper glorified
I gape aghast at these inventors, ain’t their arts yet horrified?
Let flair not be, a felony, a liaison with intrigue!
Let’s turn to dust, the hegemony, of this Mutual Admiration League!

© 2016 Vikas Chandra