"King of Art"

I'm the King of Art
A slacker inspired
Grad students make my work
I never grow tired

Believe the hype
I'm an archetype
You're jealous of my gifts
Which you may never swipe

I'm the host with the most
The present of the post
I'll be quaffin' ennui
'Til I give up the ghost

My fate is to create
And rate as great
So don't you be jealous
When I'm hangin' at the Tate

I drink old wine
I eat Ritz crackers
I snag Brie cheese
From huge platters

I hang my work
With tackle and boom
People are astonished
By my fluency in gloom

I got beanbags and shag
I dress in drag
Once on my Learjet
I puked and missed the bag

I'm the toast of the yacht
With irony I brought
Deconstructing discourse
Is the gift that I got

I'm a conniseur of kitsch
A post-ironic bitch
I dine with hedge fund managers
They always make me rich

I'm a fakir of myth
A maker of fables
I got impasto as thick
as shit in Augean stables

I Twitter, I chatter
I'm into anti-matter
I make pancakes
with Pollock splatter

My mother is MoMA my father is Dada
they met for MOCA
but I prefer Coolata

I sculpt with detritus
And piles of raw shit
When I'm feeling crafty
I sit and then I knit

I'm Yin, I'm Yang
An ambassador of slang
Commemorating NASA with sculptures made of Tang
I got a pimped-out studio
With Central Park address

I gotta wrap this up
So i can get some rest