Friday, June 09, 2006
I've been rereading Bernadette Mayer. Correction! I've been READING her as well! Picked up a copy of A BERNADETTE MAYER READER in a 2nd hand shop a couple days ago. Like an idiot for all these years I stuck with such a limited slice of what she has to offer. Like MIDWINTER DAY and bits and pieces. This book makes me want to read IT ALL!
What a range of forms and, and, the tastes get in you as different as the range of forms. Hard to decide WHAT poem to share here. So let me choose one I like very much which is not at all like any of the forms I've been used to by her before finding this READER. Yeah, everyone, if you don't Love this one I'll be surprised! And then I'll have to Love it enough for us! Which I will do, no problem!--CAConrad
by Bernadette Mayer
In all part in point in singing part in mountains,
part in point
the store the ancient the old always have intermissions,
part of this is too bold, but owning a part of the old
may turn into science, part to the bold, that's the ending.
in quiet parts of the old (now after always a light),
we silence, not ours but the enemy's toward an efficiency
wanting an end.
the end. We make ouselves richer, we start what's untold.
in papers, turned in words not marks, that's red.
which is racial (absorbed), where are elements--
man--to raise, he's happy
nothing in detroit that fantasy excludes
why not (plumber a mass a nude) & so on
to alternates & averages, averages tombs, two spaces told spaces,
deny it again, sold.
question in pleat, the unanimous fold now in rites
then in bells, execute
ignore the story build a cemetery
an abstraction, the end, the owl, where in point,
language of country, exhort
so to end the expelling of exploit the untelling of
dams putting in these reminders of death. that's purple.
toward denying to continue to the end, here by
continuing the of . . .
done we expel them for social, the kind of space of
the actual, space of breath & with it the space for the
space of the rest
as a joke for retelling canot persist in unpeeling
all the world's explorations, we rise to get up at the stroke of . . .
found what was lost in the heat of . . . white battle & waves &
found in rough the gut of it, having in melting how. . . .
the rest in awe, still how in awe, flower
in laugh in flower in waves. . . .
& singing & entering & awe again & this time it's awe of the reverse
of returning to scream without thinking, the end
in thinner, of thick, & simplers of trees in parrot to lisp
"sea anemone," closed
apology in rest: research isn't festive, looking for
names, burning down piers & papers & scoring the time I'm
translated to shore on the back of a porpoise
& to see like a mirror turned on the port
so for saying injection as far as it goes in the
arm (truth) of (black symbols)
will adopt parents that cannot grow (anthem emblem
knife), a knife for the course that ends like this not like that,
& they'll all come to orbit, arbit, in the courts by force
we'll make the exchange & to count, continue, to embrace
forgetting parts important to "in concurrence" that's grey.
we'll fissure the end & cleave in parting by
statements by surgery by force
cerebral from parent, dim from latin--everything's in half
we do it by force, by the time . . . this is the final please let me
ending in dive in ring proposing in answer the positions for
silence growing minerals closed sky another &
how to prepare . . . rhyme to give phial in waves blank to prompt
in ending amend that's brown.