A Poem For Dada Day At The Place April 1, 1958

written by


« Reload image

I
The bartender
Has eyes the color of ripe apricots
Easy to please as a cash register he
Enjoys art and good jokes.
Squish
Goes the painting
Squirt
Goes the poem
He
We
Laugh.

II
It is not easy to remember that other people died
  besides Dylan Thomas and Charlie Parker
Died looking for beauty in the world of the
  bartender
This person, that person, this person, that person
  died looking for beauty
Even the bartender died

III 
Dante blew his nose
And his nose came off in his hand
Rimbaud broke his throat
Trying to cough
Dada is not funny
It is a serious assault
On art
Because art
Can be enjoyed by the bartender.

IV
The bartender is not the United States
Or the intellectual
Or the bartender
He is every bastard that does not cry
When he reads this poem.

© Jack Spicer