Claire Scott

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There Is Only One Flavor of No

NO does not mean try again later.

NO does not mean if you push I will concede.

NO does not mean I am skittish, need convincing.

NO does not mean go ahead without me.

NO does not mean if you slip a valium in my cranberry vodka it makes it OK.

What is it you don’t get about NO, you with your tiny prick dying to probe and prod.

You with your pimpled face and pathetic chin.

You trying to look suave, hair slicked, thumbs in jeans pockets.

It’s. Not. Working.

Do I need to wear a warning, to flash white lights on your disbelieving face.


You still insist? You dare paw my breasts?

I take out my pearl handled pistol.

The judge slams his gavel: GUILTY.

You win.

We both lose.


Plastic Jesus With Glow-In-The-Dark Halo

I pray to the plastic Jesus
at the foot of my bed
with its chipped robe &
glow-in-the-dark halo
right next to the IV pump
the oxygen tank
that hisses & spits all night
next to the medical chart
I pray to the plastic Jesus
given to me by my Nana
eighty years ago
when I was six & she
was old beyond old
she told me about the man
who died on a Friday
afternoon to save us
I pray for the first time
in decades, my voice
hoarse my words wobbly
in the sterile room
now it is time Mr. Jesus
please do my dying for me
you promised

Grief A La Schrodinger

stargazer lilies
wither in waterless glasses

so sorry for your loss

decay seeps through
shapeless days

stalled out nights
drifting room to room

in shabby sweats
touching his books

his Warrior’s cap
his I HEART YOU coffee cup

with deepest sympathy

yesterday’s carnations
ghosts with grey faces

today a carton of flowers
on the front porch

dead or alive


Claire Scott is an award winning poet who has received multiple Pushcart Prize nominations. Her work has been accepted by the Atlanta Review, Bellevue Literary Review, New Ohio Review, Enizagam and Healing Muse among others. Claire is the author of Waiting to be Called and the co-author of Unfolding in Light: A Sisters’ Journey in Photography and Poetry.