Monday, October 6, 2008

This is where everyone goes and scrounges up every Bernadette Mayer poem they can find...


You jerk you didn't call me up
I haven't seen you in so long
You probably have a fucking tan
& besides that instead of making love tonight
You're drinking your parents to the airport
I'm through with you bourgeois boys
All you ever do is go back to ancestral comforts
Only money can get--even Catullus was rich but

Nowadays you guys settle for a couch
By a soporific color cable t.v. set
Instead of any arc of love, no wonder
The G.I. Joe team blows it every other time

Wake up! It's the middle of the night
You can either make love or die at the hands of
the Cobra Commander


to make love, turn to page 121.
to die, turn to page 72.

excerpt from "On the road to what we're tempted to call heaven"

heaven I must tell you
at least from what I know
is an abandoned camp
named by white people
after Indian words
there's nobody living in it
it's overgrown
with raspberries

on the road to it
the road becomes disused
the trees are bigger
the light is both brighter
& less bright
& in the space between tire tracks
where cars used to drive
tiny strawberries have sprouted up
the road becomes progressively
more & more lined with
wild berries growing
till you get to a field
overwhelmed with things to eat
if you know what they are
& in spaces there are buildings
low & in disuse

if you dare walk into
the sunny parts of heaven
you will hear a buzz so loud
as to make you think
knee-deep in unknown flowers already
you'll die right away
of the juices & bites
of other things living
but if you advance without fear
& look up often
not at the sky but at the milkweeds
& tamest elderberries
against the view of
the equally ardent thorns & bees
you might wind up
falling in the delicious hole
which speaks to you then
& ever after: it says
go home
and let it rain on the roofs
because you have a home
or house, cabin or apartment
or tent, cave, dwelling or shelter

((it should go without saying that these poems were written by bernadette mayer--certainly not by me. but, for those less inclined to know this a priori: more on bernadette mayer))

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