The Fall of Art

First there was magic,
incantation;
pure bulls
walking the walls of Lascaux,
bull leapers in Knossus.

Then worship, altars
raised to heaven,
to earth;
Aphrodite sailing
her shell-white body,

Christ ascending
on his cruciplane.
And then perfection
worshipped as magic:
Phidias caressing marble thighs,

Michelangelo creating
David’s consummate curve.
Now we bow before
ego-scrawl,
subway canvasses
posed on pompous walls;

the id-beast loosed,
numbering the earth.