Berkeley, CA: Zasterle AC, 2004
Small Press Distribution
This slender volume from the reigning queen of playful wordery brings her down from a poetic throne into the proletarian trenches. Though still full of her zany, enchanting experiments, the themes are more serious than whimsical. It’s not easy to be a champion of pioneering movements (“I do not know how to write commercially” she notes in “On Sleep,” a tribute to insomnia).
This poet is ever the teacher. Her structures and systems beg to be played with and attempted.
In “Noun Pileup on M15 Bus,”she offers a lesson in avoiding death by adjectival smothering, common to many a poet. Her dissection of visual encounters into a nouny list makes everyday things like transport become a game of seek and find. (“Passenger operated safety exit door (good! four nouns).”
Beneath the surface stories of urban scenery lies a search for meaning amidst regular landmarks: coffee, shoes, bags, jobs, and, a touchstone for Mayer, the sonnet, she still plugs away at that old form, making it new every time.
As with any art on the fringes, there’s a frustration due to lack of recognition, which Mayer has not resigned herself to. Demoralized in a warring, greedy world, Mayer seeks to elevate existence, rather than acquiesce to the powers that be.
Beyond her determined boldness, the poet explores vulnerability through reflections of the contrasting strength/fragility of life.
the dead parts
of old moths
fall on the table
through holes in the light
where a giant stirs them up
dead limbs
old bodies
over all my poems
dried wings (p.26)
This naked confrontation with the facts of life is funny and a little sad. Its explicitness is also a little gross, like life.The spare poem knows its precise effect—no wordy deluges, just working words in a solid order, like the blue-collar, grassroots vibe throughout the entire collection. Gorgeous cover art by Quino Zoncu on this limited edition helps make the book a pleasure, and a treasure.
*this review originally appeared in Rain Taxi Review