Multimedia, multimedia. That’s my game—glue
I so like it because I have mastic style.
I can’t draw a straight line—I find that’s a shame too,
so I’m off to glom my objets trouvés pile.

From this pile I slap together multimedia
and assemblage that’s made from disparate parts.
The pile teems with stuff found when out I step. . .
grab a die there, a glass eye there.
For this form I’ve appeal: multimedia.
It’s hard to hold me back after I get a start.

So, my style, ’cause I can’t paint, is multimedia.
I can’t paint because my right brain ain’t too smart.
Thus my scheme is to go out and home schlep
stuff I’ll find there, such as grind ware.
With my colleagues I’ll show multimedia.
Our name is droll; we’ve titled ourselves art on hARTz.

Multimedia, multimedia.