The art world reeled, the pop world spun
When Sunderland's most famous son
Afflicted by good taste no doubt
Announced he'd pulled his bottom out
The organisers in despair
Were sad he'd left it in the air
And since the stern would not be seen
They wondered how it might have been
They knew it was inflatable
The rest was all debatable
Magritte perhaps? With buttock face?
A pale pitted moon in space?
A horse-hair chair with razor slash?
Or Dali-esque with prop and 'tache?
Or would it take a modern view?
Formaldehyde, then sawn in two?
What made the star abort his plans
And how will he console his fans?
His B-side won't be on display
Come Autumn at the ICA
So has he left the thing too late?
Or are we left to speculate
That even Damien Hirst, his friend
Could not endorse his dorsal end?Reuse content