Bill Berkson

Monogram

For Bernadette Mayer

Just one more vintage movie,
Batwings tonight at the Bal Masqué—
Another creature stuffed
By distinguished pedigree.
 
I get a lot of madcap ideas about sentience,
How knowing has you put down in the book
Forbidden speech recognition—
Else why make such a face?
 
And now it’s luck no longer mouth that moves
When fastidious rummage whispers
To divulge a surplus
A clue if not the key.
 
Prospect my question laps up for good—
I lean to it. Knowing you,
First-person dwindle.
Tweet-tweet. Prick.
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