We begin with a poem by Jane Mayhall, an eighty-five year old New Yorker whose first full-length collection, SLEEPING LATE ON JUDGMENT DAY, was published in February.

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Awful, not to be sleeping in
the same bed with you. The respectability
of medical opinion, that destroys not
just hope, but the actual network of pleasure we
built in life. Never again, the sane encounter—
and the undercover hint of form,
the plasticity of companionship that nobody
mentions. Nightly conjunctions, part

dreams, the ceiling blink of cars from outside
on the country road. The low scatter, and grace-pattering
rain, color of consciousness. That we are
more than individuals. And now rent,
kept apart, not by warring theatrical families,
but by doctors and syringes.

In their distant birdcage, taking
account. Ravenously, I look forward to even
the skimpiest meeting allowed, and our unrealistic
true love. Unfettered and determined
like headlights on a road.

From SLEEPING LATE ON JUDGMENT DAY by Jane Mayhall. © 2004 by Jane Mayhall. Excerpted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

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Related links:

About SLEEPING LATE ON JUDGMENT DAY:
http://www.randomhouse.com/knopf/catalog/display.pperl?1400041740

About Jane Mayhall:
http://www.randomhouse.com/knopf/catalog/results2.pperl?authorid=57813

Read an interview with Jane Mayhall:
http://www.randomhouse.com/knopf/catalog/display.pperl?1400041740&view=qa

Discuss "The Forbidden" in the Knopf Poetry Forum:
http://www.aaknopf.com/poetry/forum

Send another Jane Mayall poem as an e-card:
http://www.randomhouse.com/knopf/ecards/mayhall/ecard.html

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