Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender: Literature and Culture || Too Late, My Mother Tells Me

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 .

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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