Jack Spicer

(30 January 1925 - 17 August 1965 / Los Angeles, California)

A Poem For Dada Day At The Place April 1, 1958 - Poem by Jack Spicer

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

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
This person, that person, this person, that person
died looking for beauty
Even the bartender died

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.

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.

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, May 5, 2012

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