My friend [Irving] Layton described it as nail polish. Our culture, our civilization, all this beautiful stuff from Mozart to Bukowski, as exalted or as funky as it gets, it’s just nail polish on the claws and the nail polish has begun to crack and flake and the claws are showing through. And that’s what we’re living with — a world in which the claws have been exposed. And it’s only been a tiny brief moment when they were covered with nail polish and now the nail polish is coming off.
From Vin Scelsa’s Idiot’s Delight, WFUV-FM: June 13, 1993
DrHGuy Note: Irving Layton, in fact,. published a volume 62 poems entitled “Nail Polish” (Toronto, Ontario. McClelland and Stewart 1971). A succinct, capable review of the book by Elizabeth Waterston can be found at Canadian Literature: New-Found Eyes.