Wocky Jivvy: Poetry and Art "When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold,
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, "It's pretty, but is it Art?"
from Rudyard Kipling's The Conundrum of the Workshops

divider line and nothing more

* Poetry: Poems by Claire

Between Two Poets

I stand.

 a little LSD and coffee
 electronic crackling on   Kerouac
 hip and drunk in his
 own irreverence

And the K-Mart Victorian:
 solid temperance unit of every reading;
 feather-duster of Poetry's pedestal
 in long black swoops of polyester
 and a molded cameo...
 Dickinson in mourning,
 never writing poetry to her asshole.

I stand.

 Two hands and a flashlight
 searching for my voice.

Copyright © 1996 Claire A. Schaeffer

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