Mona Van Duyn
Born
in Waterloo, Iowa, The United States
May 09, 1921
Died
December 02, 2004
Genre
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Selected Poems
5 editions
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published
2002
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Near Changes
2 editions
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published
1990
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If It Be Not I: Collected Poems 1959-1982
2 editions
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published
1992
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Firefall
2 editions
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published
1992
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Letters From a Father, and Other Poems
2 editions
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published
1982
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Merciful Disguises
2 editions
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published
1973
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A Time of Bees (Contemporary Poetry Series)
3 editions
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published
1964
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To See, To Take: Poems
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published
1970
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Matters of Poetry/Free
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Ploughshares Fall 1978
by ,
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published
2013
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“What the Motorcycle Said
Br-r-r-am-m-m, rackerty-am-m, OM, AM:
All-r-r-room, r-r-ram, ala-bas-ter-
Am, the world’s my oyster.
I hate plastic, wear it black and slick,
hate hardhats, wear one on my head,
That’s what the motorcycle said.
Passed phonies in Fords, knockede down billboards, landed
On the other side of The Gap, and Whee,
bypassed history.
When I was born (The Past), baby knew best.
They shook when I bawled, took Freud’s path,
threw away their wrath.
R-r-rackety-am-m. Am. War, rhyme,
soap, meat, marriage, the Phantom Jet
are sh*t, and like that.
Hate pompousness, punishment, patience, am into Love,
hate middle-class moneymakers, live on Dad,
that’s what the motorcycle said.
Br-r-r-am-m-m. It’s Nowsville, man. Passed Oldies, Uglies,
Straighties, Honkies. I’ll never be
mean, tired, or unsexy.
Passed cigarette suckers, souses, mother-fuckers,
losers, went back to Nature and found
how to get VD, stoned.
Passed a cow, too fast to hear her moo, “I rolled
our leaves of grass into one ball.
I am the grassy All.”
Br-r-r-am-m-m, rackety-am-m, OM, Am:
All-gr-r-rin, oooohgah, gl-l-utton-
Am, the world’s my smilebutton.”
―
Br-r-r-am-m-m, rackerty-am-m, OM, AM:
All-r-r-room, r-r-ram, ala-bas-ter-
Am, the world’s my oyster.
I hate plastic, wear it black and slick,
hate hardhats, wear one on my head,
That’s what the motorcycle said.
Passed phonies in Fords, knockede down billboards, landed
On the other side of The Gap, and Whee,
bypassed history.
When I was born (The Past), baby knew best.
They shook when I bawled, took Freud’s path,
threw away their wrath.
R-r-rackety-am-m. Am. War, rhyme,
soap, meat, marriage, the Phantom Jet
are sh*t, and like that.
Hate pompousness, punishment, patience, am into Love,
hate middle-class moneymakers, live on Dad,
that’s what the motorcycle said.
Br-r-r-am-m-m. It’s Nowsville, man. Passed Oldies, Uglies,
Straighties, Honkies. I’ll never be
mean, tired, or unsexy.
Passed cigarette suckers, souses, mother-fuckers,
losers, went back to Nature and found
how to get VD, stoned.
Passed a cow, too fast to hear her moo, “I rolled
our leaves of grass into one ball.
I am the grassy All.”
Br-r-r-am-m-m, rackety-am-m, OM, Am:
All-gr-r-rin, oooohgah, gl-l-utton-
Am, the world’s my smilebutton.”
―