>[Sonnet] You jerk you didn’t call me up
>By Bernadette Mayer
> >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 172.