I've been doing thangs. Teaching, taking every gig I can in theater, and performing and applying, yet being denied. So I press forward and do mo' thangs. I say yes to the smile of exhaustion because my future and dreams are worth it. I'm still searching for a publishing house that can become home to my writing, a theater that welcomes the truth of my shows, and a studio that hold the in between.

Excerpts from Mayers’ Performance Piece, My Culture Has Become An Industry.

A Eulogy for Anxiety.

by Lester Mayers

If Paris is still burning, then Brooklyn gots to be freezing, and anywhere in between must be
freezer-burned or so overcooked it's unsafe to
consume. Either way, we are; we are all at
risk of
contamination. We must find a new examination
to measure life because the money we've
been
loading on spoons of exhaustion, shoving down
our thoughts, is making us so sick we've
started
regurgitating, confusing medicinal with
conventional.

And for what, to struggle to make a living and feed ____death so easily?

There is no traditional form of healing to solidify
the
validity of our culture without the discouragement
of unnecessary competition. Something has
got to change before changes
gather us to a place where more children visit graveyards to see their friends than they do
at the
park. Or to a place where legacies are buried,
death is a song on repeat, and sex is a federal
warrant to arrest those who make a choice when pregnant—a place where love is a funny mood
in lieu of emotions.

Or is it too late? Are we already there? Is tomorrow ____equipped enough to balance France's heat
and New York's bitter coldness?
-
Will tomorrow ever come?
-
Dear Martin,
Ugh...

When I finally master my peace, who will be the ____enslaved?

It's time to wake up; your sleep can't be that good.
The dream must be disturbed.

A Eulogy for Anxiety.

by Lester Mayers

If Paris is still burning, then Brooklyn gots to be freezing, and anywhere in between must be
freezer-burned or so overcooked it's unsafe to consume. Either way, we are; we are all at risk of
contamination. We must find a new examination to measure life because the money we've been
loading on spoons of exhaustion, shoving down our thoughts, is making us so sick we've started
regurgitating, confusing medicinal with conventional.

And for what, to struggle to make a living and feed death so easily?

There is no traditional form of healing to solidify the validity of our culture without the
discouragement of unnecessary competition. Something has got to change before changes
gather us to a place where more children visit graveyards to see their friends than they do at the
park. Or to a place where legacies are buried, death is a song on repeat, and sex is a federal
warrant to arrest those who make a choice when pregnant—a place where love is a funny mood
in lieu of emotions.

Or is it too late? Are we already there? Is tomorrow equipped enough to balance France's heat
and New York's bitter coldness?
-
Will tomorrow ever come?
-
Dear Martin,
Ugh...

When I finally master my peace, who will be the enslaved?

It's time to wake up; your sleep can't be that good.
The dream must be disturbed.

Excerpts from Mayers’ Performance Piece, My Culture Has Become An Industry.

A Poem Afraid To Love.

by Lester Mayers

#2 -
I don't know what to do anymore when it comes to loving you.
I have tried everything under the sun and everything above the moon.
I've prayed east and rode backward missionary style through a hurricane, rebuilt a Lutheran
Church, and given up pork for six days, but on the seventh, I realized won't shit change.
-
So I fried me up a packet of bacon,
committed some sins,
and caused destruction
like my mother's name was Nature.
-
While you've rigged your expectations of me
with letdowns and heartbreaks of the past.

BITCH - I am not them.

Lester Eugene Mayers is a Brooklyn native, a Department of Theatre Arts at SUNY New Paltz, and an MFA graduate of the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics. Mayers is a director, writer, performance artist, dramaturg, choreographer, and professor. He is a current professor at Ramapo College, Minneapolis College of Art and Design, and the 2023 inaugural artist in residence at Ramapo College. In addition, Mayers is directing the main stage production of Hooded or Being Black For Dummies by Tearrance Arvelle Chisholm at SUNY New Paltz.

Instagram: @MayersLester_
www.lestermayers.com

A Poem Afraid To Love.

by Lester Mayers

#2 -
I don't know what to do anymore when it comes to loving you.
I have tried everything under the sun and
everything above the moon.
I've prayed east and rode backward missionary style through a hurricane, rebuilt a Lutheran
Church, and given up pork for six days, but on the seventh, I realized won't shit change.
-
So I fried me up a packet of bacon,
committed some sins,
and caused destruction
like my mother's name was Nature.
-
While you've rigged your expectations of me
with letdowns and heartbreaks of the past.

BITCH - I am not them.

Lester Eugene Mayers is a Brooklyn native, a Department of Theatre Arts at SUNY New Paltz, and an MFA graduate of the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics. Mayers is a director, writer, performance artist, dramaturg, choreographer, and professor. He is a current professor at Ramapo College, Minneapolis College of Art and Design, and the 2023 inaugural artist in residence at Ramapo College. In addition, Mayers is directing the main stage production of Hooded or Being Black For Dummies by Tearrance Arvelle Chisholm at SUNY New Paltz.

Instagram: @MayersLester_
www.lestermayers.com