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poet

Bernadette Mayer

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Bernadette Mayer
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Bernadette Mayer was born on May 12, 1945, in Brooklyn, New York. She received her BA from the New School for Social Research in 1967.

She is the author of numerous books of poetry and prose, including: Eating the Colors of a Lineup of Words: The Early Books of Bernadette Mayer (Station Hill Press, 2015),  Poetry State Forest (New Directions, 2008), Scarlet Tanager (New Directions, 2005), Two Haloed Mourners (Granary Books, 1998), Proper Name and Other Stories (New Directions, 1996), The Desires of Mothers to Please Others in Letters (Hard Press Editions, 1994), The Bernadette Mayer Reader (New Directions, 1992), Sonnets (Tender Buttons Press, 1989), Midwinter Day (New Directions, 1982), The Golden Book of Words (Angel Hair Books, 1978), and Ceremony Latin (Angel Hair Books, 1964).

From 1967 to 1969, Mayer and conceptual artist Vito Acconci edited the journal 0 TO 9. With her husband, writer and publisher Lewis Warsh, she edited United Artists Press. She has taught writing workshops at The Poetry Project at St. Mark's Church in New York City for many years and she served as the Poetry Project's director during the 1980s. Bernadette Mayer lives in East Nassau, New York.


Selected Bibliography

Eating the Colors of a Lineup of Words: The Early Books of Bernadette Mayer (Station Hill Press, 2015)
Poetry State Forest (New Directions, 2008)
Scarlet Tanager (New Directions, 2005)
Two Haloed Mourners (Granary Books, 1998)
Proper Name and Other Stories (New Directions, 1996)
The Desires of Mothers to Please Others in Letters (Hard Press Editions, 1994)
The Bernadette Mayer Reader (New Directions, 1992)
Sonnets (Tender Buttons Press, 1989)
Midwinter Day (New Directions, 1982)
The Golden Book of Words (Angel Hair Books, 1978)
Ceremony Latin (Angel Hair Books, 1964)

by this poet

poem
song birds take a bath in our elephant pool
turtles don't come to our turtle yet
sunflower cytology apprehend the weeds in our garden
cytologies you mean & well there's poison ivy
as in drew barrymore or
dream creatures knocking at the window
threatening to kill you on a snowy road
and now the luna moth
poem
the penis is something that fits into the vagina
so's the tampax or sponge
therefore Aristotle never thought of women at all
the penis like a tree fits into mouth, hands and asshole too
it can be the subject of an academic poem
disguised as a sloop, catapult or catamaran's mastpole
never the monthly menstruation
poem
First turn to me after a shower,
you come inside me sideways as always

in the morning you ask me to be on top of you,
then we take a nap, we’re late for school

you arrive at night inspired and drunk,
there is no reason for our clothes

we take a bath and lie down facing each other,
then later we turn over,