Angles

This is a poem I wrote for this evening's Poetry Writing class. Usually I'll elaborate more when a goal is completed or progress is made, but I don't like to explain my poetry. Here is Week #1.

angles

a slipshod sculpture of poorly-welded and rusty metal
in a showcase by the door
not on display
but ogled nonetheless
by bespectacled connoisseurs of nothing but their own opinions
who cluck their tongues
and tell you
what is and
what isn't
artful
while they whittle away their turpentine-saturated existences
waiting