Art Critics Speak
As if we might be able to forget
What Freud has foisted on us, artist Hirst
Thrusts serpents and his monsters full of threat
Up front and most are thick with penis thirst
As anything that mental patients might
Purvey. The female images invoke
The usual tits, not one of them slight,
All pert at least, most big enough to choke
The sharks and cousins of the dragons which
Lust after suckling on their blood, not milk.
The males there to protect them have to hitch
Their massive cocks aside, this god-like ilk
Of guys, before they can get down to save
The pretty gals. And we’re supposed to rave.