The PM as Performance Art
As with most great works of art, unrecognised in their time—
Paintings, sculptures, installations, even buildings—
The full power and affect of the PM was not recognised
By many in its moment. One man
Was moved to remark that the work was "not an oil painting."
Others failed to detect the latent satire in the way
The performer spewed jobs and words and bodies right and left and
With his cartoon mouth, span spin. Art appreciation
Did not yet extend much into politics in the noughties, and the people
Who saw, and listened, and were not moved to remark
Upon life become art (or death) should be forgiven.
The House of Reps was not then recognised as a gallery and
In Paddington and Melbourne and other artsy hotspots
Few showed interest in displaying the gibbering automaton
In its little jogging suit.
. . . . . . Observing all this
With fatalistic patience, the immortal artist sat back
In his red den, pared his clawed nails,
And filed down the aesthetically pleasing spike on the end of his long, fiery tail.