I float in stagnant waters

I hang myself in data-driven waiting rooms

First-graders forced to appreciate me

Middle-class matrons swoon:

Ubiquitous redundant art-print

Token impressionist

Sure to never offend

Blurred with bourgeois harmlessness

Smeared by some Frenchman

Who had issues with the Academy

And is no longer

Relevant.

Data-driven art:
There’s a good one for your verse.
So . . .  write a haiku