Even though it’s Florida, I’ll reach
for benefit of the doubt, decide
the several students who reported “feeling traumatized”
weren’t religion-twisted offspring of parents
who think people coexisted with dinosaurs,
but rather nascent artists
demoralized by such perfection. I understand
the urge to give up when seeing genius,
the hopeless “I can’t top that,
so why even try?” It’s true, the world
can seem like pie with the best slices taken,
but listen, children — Creativity’s
a hungry beast that if not fed, turns mean.
Let your own artistic urges feast on David,
genitals and all. There’s always room
for more in Art’s safe house
with its multicolored, always-widening wall.