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by Jennifer Van Buren this is not the stuff of poetry: quiche and scone and steamed milk that hisses to the City Paper groove of the consciously fashion unconscious. this is not art: it is where art drinks morning coffee to kick you in the ass get up and find your own damn something to write about! you know, down at the end of 37th-- that cat stapled to telephone pole? that might inspire something to hang on bulletin boards with sketch and paste collages of the guitar dumpster punk warming his coal stained fingertips tripping out on promises Ahimsa Yoga and free shows (or god forbid drum circles.) tack it all up on this lazy ass leech and her attempt to suck creativity from art-school baristas who just want to sleep. top tier spider tree reaches the pressed tin ceiling and then turns around for another layer another returning view. I just want to sleep wondering if the scraggled kitty crucifix was already dead. About the Author: Jennifer lives in Texas hill country with her husband and two sons. She is editor of the web-based journal, Mannequin Envy and more of her work can be found at mannequinenvy.wordpress.com. Email: jkvanburen@gmail.com |
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