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    Bye Bye, Biennial
by Charlie Finch
The Whitney,
with banners by
Kay Rosen
John Currin
The Old Fence
and the press.
We've already forgot their names
(as if we ever knew them):
The artists in this Whitney show,
anonymously, screw 'em!
We've watched the rain
come pouring down,
indoors, a parlor trick --
We've seen John Currin's busty babes
that make us touch our dick,
and Petah Coyne and Grigely,
passé or never were --
The shallow content of this art
is just one long, gray blur:
A big fat pile of tires
ripped off from Nari Ward,
some "innovative internet art"
that simply left us bored.
Of course, there's no photography
(its market's down this year)
and Haacke's installation
plays Chopsticks with our fears.
It's all depressing for the soul,
when what you want's to free it --
The Biennial's so second rate
I didn't even see it!

CHARLIE FINCH is author of Most Art
Sucks: Five Years of Coagula