ON CONVENTION

Sometimes it's often I see
And listen to the works of another.
There's a sense I feel I must smother;
It's a feeling, named it can't be,
But it's a feeling I guess I'll call quother.

Quother is defined as the sense,
When looking at any ol' thing,
That around it, there lies a ring
That prevents one from seeing the dense,
Authentic meaning that he knows it could bring.

This sense is within all people,
But only some care to spot it in art,
'Specially those who feel conventions impart
An impulse to shield the feeble,
Genuine thoughts that make who you art.

Several aesthetic modes
Have come and gone for men
To use in their works; it's been
Quite a rather interesting road,
But is it where quother lies, then?

Convention I cannot insult
For the progress it's given to us,
But remove ye the ring in percuss
And your genuine joy exult;
Indeed, that will quell my fuss.

April 2, 2025.