One dark night in the middle of the day

two dead boys got up to play.
Back to back they faced each other
Drew their swords and shot one another.
A deaf policeman heard the noise,
came and shot those two dead boys.
If my story you doubt is true
ask the blind guy, he saw it too

Through a knothole in the fence or something. I have no idea where this "poem" came from...we used to recite it all the time cuando yo era nino. I am sure it is someone famous...though why is not quite as clear.
Poetry, like art, is one of those things not everyone "gets". Like the big brouhaha over that stupid Britney Spears birthing statue...yay for the guy that made it.
Cracks me up that the gallery owner is talking about Britney fans being too ignorant to understand". What is too understand? A beautiful naked girl in a rather profane position. Not too hard too understand.
The real question is, do I CARE that I don't understand it? Kind of like the art of Jackson Pollock...I don't see his internal angst, his color genius...I see a moron dropping paint randomly, demonstrating no appreciable talent. And I am proud to "not get it". Give me the cheesy cartoon look of Sergio Aragones...it may not be "high art" but it looks good and I definitely "get it".
I have seen some Picasso art I "got"...and I "get" what they were TRYING to do...doesn't mean I like it or want to ever see it again...I like my art low brow and enjoyable.