The Poetry of
Jack Scott

Voltage is a Rattlesnake

Electric before electricity,
anticipant participant, will his thumb fit in the socket?
Why would he want it there?
Voltage is a rattlesnake,
that deadly docile looking wire,
seems sleeping or is dead.
You can’t tell by looking.

The storm above has drained its gods
into dilution, unto mud,
into a very lethal ground
if you or they are playing
with electricity.
It reduces to relief the pride of lightning,
arrows from some other gods,
Thor foremost among them,
but he’s particular,
doesn’t want to waste them on non-entities
for he has got to gather them
back into his quiver after.
(Good help’s so very hard to find.)

Here’s one in this bulbless fixture
see . . . come close . . .
closer . . .closer . . . now
Thor will thank you,
he doesn’t like to lose them,
no contact yet, the current’s on.
Hurt? No, more like an orgasm.

Electrocution’s endless
in the wiring of the mind
waiting is the longest wire,
your call will come.
That the lines are down
doesn’t mean they’re dead.
So, when it rings, answer,
It might be for you.


634 ®Copyright 1974 Jack Scott. All rights reserved.