Very happy my slightly unhinged sonnet sequence after Bernadette Mayer written in a one-hour constraint is in the latest issue of Blackbox Manifold with poets including Lucy Hamilton & Miranda Lynn Barnes. Thanks to editors Alex Houen & Adam Piette
Ten Sonnets after Bernadette Mayer
1. I’ve set myself the task of writing ten sonnets
in an hour. I started at 1pm on 5th June.
Why? Because it seems like a challenge
worth trying. Also, I’ve had my lunch.
Also, l set this challenge for my poetry group,
and they hated it. The idea anything can be
a sonnet. I might not even get as far
as 14 lines. Call it what you will –
14 lines of random thoughts. Earlier,
it felt like a very exciting idea. Now,
I’m already counting down the lines
until I can say, Yes. Achieved. The first one.
But there are nine more to do. This is
an example of my impatience. Got to commit.
2. Bernadette Mayer said anything could be a sonnet.
Maybe, she didn’t say that, but set an example
by labelling a 14-line poem ‘Sonnet’.
The idea of perfection is a bad idea –
perfect nonsense. I’m an obsessive,
so, I’m hoping this is freeing. It’s a challenge but
God knows what I’ll think when I read this back.
Look, my friend’s just written a novel.
It’s one long email to an estate agent.
I’m enjoying it. Will anyone enjoy this?
You shouldn’t write with an audience in mind.
Or should you? I watched a tv panel debate
about the debate on tv by the party leaders.
They agreed it should be policies not point scoring.
3. I’ve been trying to write a sonnet about crown shyness.
It isn’t going well. I tried to make it rhyme.
So far, I’ve got space/face, touching/breaking
and branch/dance, which isn’t really a rhyme.
Could it be slant? Anyway, it’s abandoned.
So many false starts. I’m waiting for a delivery.
I wonder if they knocked, and I didn’t hear.
Anyway, it’s for my daughter – a new phone.
I said I’d be in and I am. Not guilty then.
It’s always disappointing when you expect
a delivery – physically or mentally.
Stop checking. Stop rhyming. Just go
with the flow. Let’s go to the disco –
that’s what my instructor says before we squat.
4. Dentists are like hairdressers. Or builders.
Who cut your hair last? They’re cowboys!
What! He didn’t use a dental dam!
When we moved into our house, we were told
to replace the boiler – it wouldn’t last.
That was over 20 years ago. It has.
What’s with the denigrating of the past
or the people responsible for the past?
If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. I like that,
but guess capitalists don’t –
nor do dentists, hairdressers or builders.
When you look at my supermarket, only two
out of the 18 or so aisles sell anything beneficial.
Dentists need us to eat sweets.
5. Yesterday, I went to the Tate Modern.
I took my friend. We had a good lunch
but not enough time to see the exhibition,
‘Expressionists’. Well, she did. I told her to stay.
I needed to get back to the dentist.
I whizzed round the rooms to get an impression.
Does that make me an Impressionist?
The thing that stuck was the colours
and how they related colour to sound.
There seems to be a science behind it
as there was a diagram of spectrums.
If colours have different vibrations,
that’s a good thing to think about
especially with a drill in your mouth.
6. Bernadette Mayer used lists in her sonnets.
I could go downstairs and find my receipt,
but I remember most of what’s on it.
No time with only 18 minutes left to write
four more sonnets, and the rest of this.
She thought about sex a lot. I’m interested,
but not thinking about sex – well I wasn’t
but now I am in an abstract way
thinking about a poet writing about sex.
One of the things on my receipt is stain remover.
It’s for a dress with a blood stain.
Period blood. We had a chat last night
about the shame associated with leaking
and how that’s disappeared. But has it?
7. I’m writing this with my pencil in my right hand.
My left hand is busy stimming –
I used to call it ‘silking’. My mum
taught me how to silk when we folded
a duvet together. She said it comforted her
to rub material between her fingers.
I did it so much as a child,
my mum had to hide the cushions.
The frills were ruined – grey and frayed.
I gave up for a long time, but those pyjamas,
simply too tempting to resist –
just the right sensation. My brother
sucked his thumb. I only recently
learned the word stimming. Better than smoking.
8. What’s your worst habit?
Think about it and why you do it.
I’ve smoked – 30 a day at one point.
Only gave up for good when I was pregnant.
Now, I stim, but who am I hurting?
My pyjama top is in rags. I wish
you could see it. Serious holes
and dirty, fraying thread I roll
between my fingers. I take it with me
on the tube hidden in my tote bag.
I wonder if people see my hand moving
mysteriously inside my bag on my lap –
if they think I’m masturbating. Sometimes,
I bring it out. My worst habit is obsessing.
9. I’m telling you that I’m not going to
make my challenge. I’m stressing that
I have six minutes left. My stimming
has gone into overdrive. I remember
exams and running out of time –
hoping I’d make my best points
as the last few minutes ran down
and I had to complete the essay somehow.
My writing is manic and messy.
My stimming is on acid.
It will be interesting to look back
to see if the chaos becomes more
or less interesting as I try to beat the clock.
Why do we create unnecessary stress?
10. Guys! I might make it.
Three minutes left. When I
write this up, will I write
three as a word or 3 as a
numeral. Who cares? Who will
even notice? I wanted to include
one big thought rather than random
stuff. I’ve left it late.
I told a friend I could not watch the horror,
couldn’t doom scroll. She said,
It’s important to witness. She has a point,
but if it makes you so depressed, you
can’t do anything – eat, wash or sleep –
should you continue?
Lisa Kelly’s second collection The House of the Interpreter (Carcanet) was a Poetry Book Society Summer 2023 Recommendation. Her first collection, A Map Towards Fluency (Carcanet), was shortlisted for the Michael Murphy Memorial Poetry Prize 2021. She co-edited What Meets the Eye? The Deaf Perspective (Arachne Press) and also the ‘Grassroots’ issue of Magma.
Lisa Kelly 