Some Perverted Form of Art

I read an essay once
about a dog leashed to a public square
and starved
in some perverted form of art.

"But is it art?"
a crowd of dilettantes cried,
stroking their chins
and clutching their programmes,

as that good boy shivered
and turned his poor
and pleading eyes on them
in turn.

"Let's say it is"
a critic said.
"Here's my review:

the dog should be replaced
with something else.

I vote the artist."