Look at the colors. Green means life, I suppose.
The slabs of granite, tight in rows,
show everything we take for granted, quite composed.
In the shot, there's hints of light, exposed,
but the background fades to blur. I'd guess that's wasted Earth.
I'd guess that's space reserved for the plight of those
who indulge in such trite repose, such tasteless work.
Dear "River Acheron" (a name that's probably not what it seems
as my Google search says that's a body of water in Greece),
Fuck you.
If it's not already obvious, please, let me offer you all I can see
in this photographic atrocity, that you signed with a digital flourish:
• I get the limited toning, close in on the pivotal moment.
That's exactly what ever other novice with a DSLR did with their focus.
• I'm seeing the rule of thirds, background divided to balance it out,
yet you've washed away everything in the sky's tint and matted the clouds.
• There's beauty in flowering fauna, the bud's growth to the seed head,
which is why dandelions are the favorite plants of most of the Pre-K.
• And then there's that signature, a brazen credit anointed in scripture,
but why would you put it across the lone focal point of your picture?
See, your composition is poor, subject matter unceasingly trite.
But you've made it big, River! Front page on the Deviant site.
Yes, it's teaming with bright, young, bookish media types
who hope their lame, broke clichés become desktop wallpaper.
Meanwhile, never seeing the light of day, these desperate art majors
slave over true beauty, inscribed in unpublished Descartes papers.
This Internet culture has delineated the path to success
is throwing up whatever you can as fast as you can, prepackaged and sent.
Reprints and Photoshops have won over this pantomime
where genius gets strangled by weeds.
Artistic dandelions.