Mere Smith's first book, beginning with this second edition, was our first direct-digital, on-demand printing book project, and we made sure that it would be memorable. A 1996 publication, it has not lost its edge in 2002, in production or content (see the poem excerpted below).
This exquisite work in 25 poems on 40 pages is a substantial chapbook, printed on heavy opaque white paper. The book is saddle-stitched and trimmed. The original design, sharp to begin with, was given a slinkier, cleaner typography and the benefit of paperless-master. The entire book is a Postscript object and can be printed on a remote networked printing press. The design, layout, production, typesetting were all done by us working with Mere, and on an ancient Macintosh IIci to boot which is still capable of bookmaking. :)
As for her inimitable writing, Mere Smith displays her usual fine excellent control of jazzily innovative, often erotic poetry, and calm, lucid contemplation. The authenticity and maturity and having something true to say and saying it well is evident throughout. Each poem opens its context unflinchingly, surefootedly, an exacting icon. All in all, this is a masterful suite of managed particulars, an effortless display of poetic prowess.
mary and me at midnight
holy mary mother
of god
came to me in my sleep
last night
and sat on my head.
it hurt
and
she said,
"girl i don't know
what you been doing
in the time i been away
but i can tell you right now
that ain't nobody comin to save you.
my no good son's off on vacation
to greece this summer and he's
just sittin on the beach
gettin tanned all over
cause you know
they don't
wear no
clothes
there."
i struggled to breathe
underneath the weight
of that blue cape and the
heaviness that was her body
and creaked out my reply:
"please,
mary,
you're sitting on my brains
and i can't think straight
when you're so near to me."
"you sleep in the nude,"
she said
accusingly,
rolling off my head and
onto the pillow next to me
i said,
"yes. it's too hot
for pajamas,
mary."
at which point
she looked at my closet
and looked at my door
bein all very careful about the matter
then rolled her
blue cape sleeves up,
exposing
arms that were more like air
and said,
"don't tell nobody
i'm doing this"
and when she
was finally just skin
it was like she
was sitting in the palm of my hand
where one wrong breath
and she would've disappeared
then holy
mary mother of god
and i
curled up secret in each other's arms
and went to sleep,
sweating and naked
on a bed
in july.
Copyright © 1995 Mere Smith
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Copyright © 1995 A Small Garlic Press. All rights reserved.
Created 1995/8/26. Updated last on 2008/5/2.
