gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender: literature and culture || too late, my mother tells me
TRANSCRIPT
Too Late, My Mother Tells MeAuthor(s): Constance MerrittSource: Callaloo, Vol. 23, No. 1, Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender: Literature and Culture(Winter, 2000), p. 44Published by: The Johns Hopkins University PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3299513 .
Accessed: 10/06/2014 01:56
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TOO LATE, MY MOTHER TELLS ME
by Constance Merritt
Those deep lines on your forehead come From frowning up and reading all the time; But for them you still look young.
Your night- Time sleep is your life and strength; You lose your best rest sleeping in the day. And anyway, if, like you say, There's no money in it, I wouldn't waste
My time; the book I write will sell. Best thing, you come on home.
The people I come from have always known Books and what-not run some people crazy, That the mind's a dangerous thing best left alone, Like blues for some, like sex, like heroin.
Callaloo 23.1 (2000) 44
This content downloaded from 195.34.78.11 on Tue, 10 Jun 2014 01:56:06 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions