Dada is not understood,
Dada is not listened to,
Dada is not heeded.
Dada is subverted,
it is corrupted by other forms
which seem easier
and so take hold.
Yet it still claims to be,
and so pollutes Dada.
Yet the name carries force,
and so it is stitched on to its very corpse.
And as the corpse decomposes,
bits are added from other forms,
on and on,
until the axeblade, pin and shaft are all new,
None of the original remains,
thus it is with Dada.
A corpse reinhabited by other.
Everyday Dada 