The artist says “I don’t really think your pieces meet
the standard of art that I have defined.
Art should call attention to itself.
Art must make you know
that it is Art!”

The other artist says,
“That’s a perfectly fine standard.
It is not my standard.
Feel free to enjoy your standard.
I think I’ll go eat an ice pop.”

So the first artist goes,
“That’s all well and good,
but you cannot just start
talking about ice pops
as if they are Art now.”
He makes a point to capitalize the A in Art
in his voice.
“Such a frozen treat is not an appropriate subject
for Art.”

“I have a friend named Art,” said the second,
“He was a great photographer
who could make anything shine on a shoot.
If he took a picture of an ice pop, it would pop!
It would be a piece of art. By Art.”

“Very droll,” Numero Uno responded,
“but standards must be met.
Certain qualities have to realized
if you want to impress upon people -”

“I think,” replied the other
(who has been an artist

just a little bit longer than the first),
“that art can be a fickle funster,
and can mean whatever it needs to mean
and can be found however
and wherever
it wants to be, as well.
Maybe I’m not as hung up on the standards as you, Lionel?”

The first artist did not like to be called that.
“Can… can we get back…
back to what matters?”

“Sure sure.” Number Two answered,
“I’m gonna go and write something.
Something about lions’ asses.
What’re you gonna do?”

The first one thought about it
and sighed.
“Probably something very similar
but not as good.”

And, not for the last time,
they parted ways.