Sonnet, 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 blown 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
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