Poetry by Claire Scott

Read More: A brief interview with Claire Scott

The Party is Not The Same

All my friends are here.
My children. My awesome sisters.
We give each other some serious hugs.
A young man with a beginning beard opens bottles of wine.
A tatted server passes smoked salmon.
Imagine is playing, your favorite.
I turn to touch your hand.
And I remember.



Eden Is Overrated

Thank god for the serpent
who freed us from paradise
that nothing-ever-happens-here place
where the weather is mind-numbingly mild
and flowers never wilt
only reruns of Father Knows Best
tuna casseroles with mushroom soup
organ music wandering from key to key
Bach holding the little that is left of his moldering ears
only lolling listlessly in timeless time
not noticing we were naked
no coursing lust electrifying the tedium
no orgiastic pleasures under a forbidden tree

bless the belly-crawling serpent
who deceived god
delivering us to a world of fig leaves
and free choice
where anything is possible
provided you eat an apple a day
(McIntosh red recommended)
to bypass immortal life
in a stagnant garden
with prelapsarian snake
who doesn’t ever speak


Is This What It Comes to at the End

Love unsteady on its feet
lurching leftward
lingering for balance
one hand on the scarred oak table
where four kids scratched their names
the other hand on a wall with hatch marks
tracking grandkid’s growth
some cheated, stood on tiptoes
wanting to be tallest
and here we are two perfectly civilized
old people screaming like banshees
I yell you can barely see the garage
need to surrender your keys
sell the Prius before you kill someone
you shout I am too controlling
only two minor accidents, fender benders
that could happen to anyone
claws of anger rake through our marriage
blood low-lying for years bursts through
geysers of resentment, of bitterness, of betrayal
blood no smudge of sage or Clorox can cleanse
only the two of us
focused on the future of a dented Prius
unsure why we are arguing
as though our lives
depended on it



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 Until I Couldn’t. She is the co-author of Unfolding in Light: A Sisters’ Journey in Photography and Poetry.

Read More: A brief interview with Claire Scott