PENNY ARCADE. by. Norman Bright She put a penny in the magle water- fall and words came tumbling down/ Green ones, blue and bright orange/ Oceasionally purpie Just for @ change/ "Oh dear, all I get is words' she sighed/'Not one single idea'/'NO NO" came a mechanical voice/'Nat what I am about'/'This is a word machine. ' Did you not see the sign?/Walking away from the holiday town,/she chanced to see a beggar man/'Spare a nickel, quarter, dine?'/'Have you a fresh idea for me today?'/'I deal in nickels quarters dines.../ideas are for the rich'/Hey ho here is a dollar anyway. I am looking for an ideas machine/is there one near here? '/'Try tiat fellow over there, Him with his arms outstretched. /He is full of ideas, poor wretch. '/ ‘Excuse me gir I am looking for fresh ideas. Could you sell me one?'/ "Get these nails from my hands ‘then I shall have a try'/She helped him down/ ‘Now let ue see.*/He scratched hia filthy beara/'De you fancy anything about truth and honesty?'/'Is that net a bit. .revolutionary?'/"Alright. Something quiet then. How is this?'/ And he dug deep into his bag/'Equality for the sexes, every woman the vote/ serve in the army, work in the mines/ stop having children if none by seven- teen/eonsume no goods from corpora- tions waging wars/encourage men to work for love not gain'/'That is a bit much. F do not think you have what I wantt/'I think I will try next door'/ She lifted him high up on the cross/ Turned around a‘wide river to cross? "Ideas.Get your lovely ideas'/A circus clown cried out/"Have you ‘arything nice for about fifty’ cerite?'/'Here just for you./Instant happiness at half ‘he price. /Swallow a pill every day and never mind the cost'/'Just what I want! She stretched out her tiny nand/ "Thank you Mr, Clown.I knew you would und ‘ GODDARD RIVERSIDE COMMUNITY CENTER 161 W. 87th St. New York, N. ¥. 10024 TR3-6600 by John Peel Did you ever feel a void inside your soul?/"Yeah Jim, you know 1ti/ Did you ever sce a dirty toilet?/ "No Buch thing! "/What 15 obscenity? "Cerisorship!"/Jokes, jokes. LOUSY Jokes. ‘When do I get a chance to speak?"/"Busts, busts. Honey's gone; Where do'I go now?"/To the MAN. ..the MAIN MAN!/Did you ever feel a void inside the. world?/ Yeah Jack, ...Lenny's gone!/Gone... Gone, Gone/ Lenny's...Gone! INTEGRATION OR MIGRATION by Jack Becker In one arm of a "U" shaped pen= ninsula of Jamaica Bay a flock of thousands of white feathered birds floated almost motionlessly./On the opposite arm...just hundreds of feet away..was another flock of birds...of black plumage. /At the base of the "U" were hundreds of birds of another group. .black top.. white bottoms. It was this buneh that bugged me. Couldn't figure out whether they were the liaison be- tween the white and black groups... or travel guides for migration. DETACH HERE "THE SCRIBBLERS" invite contributions for their belles-lettres and for their open readings on Thursdays, 8:00 p.m., Goddard Riverside Community Center. “THE SCRIBBLERS" invita a contribu- yentes para esta publicacion y participantes en las lecturas libres de los jueves a las cantre DETACH AND RETURN TO US WITH ~OMMENTS AND/OR SUBMISSIONS FOR PRINTING:THE EIGHTH DAY - by Russell Kelly I say the time nas come for man to ré-ereate bjs cosmos, within himself./ | There is a universe Out there,/a universe that pulses and soars/than winds itself down, to be born, again,/ in the cauldron of creation./For in the deeps of inter-stellar space/the 7th day is not yet complete/and the star-maker has not finished his work/ But man persists in his earth-bound vision of the Cosmos ,/God rested after making man/But the cauldron of Création gives the lie,/for there, protons and electrons erash together/ great vortices of gas collide/and stars are born-/He carries on hig divine work. /Man, man see the Cosmos, see the universe blazing bright/Listen to the inter-galactie song, and know-/that there are more things in heaven/than you can ever dream of. by Suzanne Kaufman 1 am a charter member of a semi-hairless species. I daily produce urine and creative looking feces. I follow my body when I can I'm in love with 2 semi-hairless man. svoLUrroN by Rissa Korsun I am a smooth Black stone Yearning for the touch of growing root Hoping that sometime a foot will come To place me closer To the growing root. we LYRIC by Richard Spiegel Warm blanket woven with my fears. Kind casket calling me to rest. The many rooms I've washed with tears./As time left barren beauty's breast./I write graffiti on your walis./I pace your long and sullen halle. /Had 1 known not to have entered/The gothic palace of my heart,/Never would I have lamented/tor sought out Solace in my art. /Wait for me my wild companions/Let us slice this stagnant air/If nature yet ean carve her canyons/Then let her thunder lead us where/Aurora lives dn liquid sktes/and silence sings 4n silken sighs.