Christine Timm is a NYC performance poet, drawing inspiration from jazz and ska, West African griottes, Ginsberg and Bukowski, and a bucket of spoken word artists. Her recently completed dissertation, Breaking the Silence: Manifestations of the Oral Tradition in 20th Century Literature landed her a Ph.D. from the City of New York Graduate Center, where she was a student of Allen Ginsberg.
He gave her bits of unused love
Like spare change from his pocket
And like the barefoot churchstep woman
She snatched it because she knew it would get her through the day.
Do I have sparkles on my butt?
No seriously.
They would be red or maybe green.
Glitzy and obscene
The kind you find on scrawl needle Christmas tree
made from macaroni
I wrote a poem in 90 seconds
Helen of Troy and six vixens
they told me not to count on a hole in one
but it was the whole pizza
with sausage
red paper and ribbon
in a stripey stocking