In the Germanic corner of Brooklyn
Next to a raw food emporium and delicatessen
A Hitler-Mustachioed man
Paints with a toothbrush.
Paints with a toothbrush.
His wrists obviously went to art school
And he is very proud of his boots.
His hair reads like nonsensical nonfiction.
A toupee of truth.
There is always someone almost punching him.
The canvas he works on is stacked on Volkswagen tires
Leaning against a brick wall he does not own.
The swastikas he brushes are ironic only
To people who do not understand irony.
That he wears a uniform is to be expected.
He wants you to expect it.
Though there is no power in those pants
They are dry clean only.
No one laughs at him though they agree he is a joke.
The Holocaust is usually the start of a horrible metaphor.
That he wears a uniform is to be expected.
He wants you to expect it.
Though there is no power in those pants
They are dry clean only.
No one laughs at him though they agree he is a joke.
The Holocaust is usually the start of a horrible metaphor.
There is however something Holocausty about his toothbrush art.
It makes one aware of the evil in one's self.
It can make one wish the artist were Holocausted
Because he does it all so knowingly.
So egregiously beyond the pale. [enter whiteness pun]
He wants for his winking to be implied.
Nazis and performance art have superiority in common.
Hitlers of the future are the hipsters of the moment. Or not. Probably not.
It makes one aware of the evil in one's self.
It can make one wish the artist were Holocausted
Because he does it all so knowingly.
So egregiously beyond the pale. [enter whiteness pun]
He wants for his winking to be implied.
Nazis and performance art have superiority in common.
Hitlers of the future are the hipsters of the moment. Or not. Probably not.
