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

The Critic

"Bereft of style, deprived of wit!"
The critic blustered, "Out the Door!
My words will can this piece of shit!"

"Bereft of style?! Deprived of wit?!"
The horde yelled back, "You pus-filled zit!
We love this violent bloody gore."

Bereft of style, deprived of wit,
the critic blustered out the door.

Copyright © 1995 Claire A. Schaeffer

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