Critical Condition
A Sonnet
It is easy to resent the critic
Who tastes and judges but seldom prepares
Attached to a specific aesthetic
Pointing out that what you love needs repairs
Not all are lampreys on the shark of art
Some act like nurses, keeping things alive
Lest, from the body, beauty's form depart
Or lest the soul become bad ideas' hive
More of those critics, we need right away
An avalanche of plastic, AI drivel
Threatens to drown the art we make today
And future art will contort and shrivel
With art and craft we all need friendly aid
For this, the critic ought to be well paid
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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