A Novice Critic’s Take on “The Black Square”

Why is a man known for this dull canvas of darkness?

As if he were so proud when slapping the acrylic tar on the rugged cloth-

Now puffing smoke from his pipe, toasting with boastful glee,

"Why yes, that certainly was me."

I don't get it.

The fancy fellas around me observe this "masterpiece"

One pointing with his manicured hand at the soft light through the dark tough,

"Down there," he said, "Ah, that's what draws the eye."

Well, I'm surprised they could see at all- their noses are up so high.

What the-...?

The others nod in agreement, "yes, there it is."

There what is?

I found just strokes of dark metal gray against putrid ore stains,

Scraping squiggles where dyslexia meets attention deficit & obsessive compulsi-

Is that a thumb print?

Oh yes, he left his mark all right.

This so called "Black Square"is just as 

            ---POINTLESS---

As a cow learning to read novels.

           Utter absurdity.

Well, joke's on the superior scholars and bluffing connoisseurs-

I bet the man came home drunk one day,

Had an important deadline to meet,

          started...          (phew) almost TOO late

Ran out of every color in every medium-

Searched high, low, found nothing

But aha! One tub of black paint...

He probably laughs with his friends, his family, all thinking back

Engaging with a, "Hey, remember that time?

What a hoot. What a day,

What that asphalt-hued square went on display."