In Patterns of Regret
rhythm shaped
beyond where wine influences us
to explore
deep seeds
buried in the garden of a book
the key, however, is
in repeated sonic babble, distortions
reflection of the world,
the echo unveils poets
striking out words
built from the stick of disregard
striking out words
the echo unveils poets’
reflection of the world
in repeated sonic babble: distortions
the key, however, is
buried in the garden of a book
deep seeds
to explore
beyond where wine influences us
rhythm, shaped
in patterns of regret
—Maxianne Berger
____
Palindrome plundered from Gregory Betts’ “Plunderverse: A Cartographic Manifesto”
The Other Woman’s Poem
I found another woman’s poem under the pillow
on your side of the bed. Your taste in literature
appears to be improving, but I analyzed
her craft, found schemes in her motif.
The meter moving my stanzas, active with
your verbs, takes its rest in the everyday
language of your arms. Her lines are contrived
to simulate excitement, drawing on shades
of forbidden form.
Yet after a few readings
you’ll crumple it in boredom, discard it
like so many others before. Philologaster,
I realize that no wife can keep you
from burrowing your wormy way through
other women’s verse, but don’t naively hide
the folded facts under your pillow:
remember who changes the sheets.
—Maxianne Berger
____
from How We Negotiate (Empyreal Press: 1999)