Can you eat art?
A metal can made to be punctured, opened, poured, and discarded
To the rich-
Art.
Those of us who were hungry and often punctured this can for dinner wondered if we could find a stove, bowl, and a can opener. Or if we boiled the picture would we no longer need the can opener but just the bowl?
Art is watching seasons change and the colorful leaves fall from their trees. Art is watching the mix matched clothes of the un-heavy coaters try to stay warm in the winter under every and anything  walking aimlessly with nowhere to go after having had art for dinner.  Art is living and breathing and feeling.
Soup cans can’t feel.
Tomorrow I am going to a thrift store and I am buying an all-black outfit, oversized glasses, and press on nails. I am going to buy a black wig and a pearl necklace and sit up straight with a cigarette and finally declare that all Andy Warhol Soup Paintings shall now be declared
Dinner!
My voice finally matters in this empty gallery of soup cans.
I mean empty gallery of
Art.