Archives for posts with tag: Mae West

by Emily Dickinson

A Man may make a Remark—
In itself—a quiet thing
That may furnish the Fuse unto a Spark
In dormant nature—lain—

Let us deport—with skill—
Let us discourse—with care—
Powder exists in Charcoal—
Before it exists in Fire.

IMAGE: “The Face of Mae West Which May Be Used as a Surrealist Apartment” by Salvador Dali (1935).


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) was born in Amherst, Massachusetts, and lived a mostly introverted and reclusive life. . While Dickinson was a prolific private poet, fewer than a dozen of her nearly eighteen hundred poems were published during her lifetime. It was not until after her death when Lavinia, Dickinson’s younger sister, discovered her cache of poems and the breadth of Dickinson’s work became apparent. A complete collection of her poetry became available for the first time in 1955 when The Poems of Emily Dickinson was published by scholar Thomas H. Johnson. She is now considered one of the most important American poets.

We’re celebrating all things May during the month of May — and how can we forget Mae West (1893-1980)? Here is the inimitable Ms. West singing the Doors‘ hit “Light My Fire,” from an album called Great Balls of Fire (MGM Records, 1972), available at

by Victoria McGrath

Though I may not always say it
please know
that you annoy me,
not every minute of every day
but certainly enough that I am glad
to not have to spend another minute
of any day with you, and
though I may not always say it
please know
that the difference between “shedule”
and “skedule” is not that one is a timetable
for a bus and the other for a train,
and I could have told you this had you
“espifically arksed” me, and
though I may not always say it
please know
that eliminating the creases
from your good dress-shirt
always gave me more satisfaction
than being ravished by you
while ironing it, and
though I may not always say it
please know
that I am pleased your current girlfriend
dumped you for a younger model
because even though it’s a cliché
karma really is a bitch
and so, apparently, am I, and
though I may not always say it
please know
I really do believe that sometimes
these things need to be said.

PHOTO: “The Mae West Lips Sofa” designed by Salvador Dali (1937).

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Victoria McGrath is an emerging poet who lives in country NSW, Australia, and is a graduate of the Australian National University. She has won a number of poetry awards and was shortlisted in 2013 for the prestigious Newcastle Poetry Prize. She has been published widely in journals and anthologies and has performed in a range of events including as featured poet at the Bundanoon Winterfest in 2011 and 2012. A publisher has expressed interest in her first, not quite finished, manuscript.