RW (02-11-35 to 06-13-2006 / Glasgow, Scotland)

The Turner Prize

They have not, they cannot,
Will not, dare not
Invite me to the 'Turner Prize'.

And yet, I have a jacket of leather,
Corduroy trousers, denim shirt,
The paraphernalia at the ready,
And the jargon to match.
It is all waiting.
I am a circus
With nowhere to perform;
Lacking in sham, unafraid of foolishness
In a world of fools.

I would dig the truth
From their landscape of lies,
And therein lies the reason
Why I cannot, will not
Be invited to the Turner Prize,
-I would fuse their fairylights.

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