The Collected Poems of Ted Berrigan (10 page)

Why? Well bless you, you impulsive ham, it’s Yuletide!

Apache blows undone me               I’ll wipe you up yestiddy

You are in these pants, you spin, you fuss, you scram

Now a lotus will appear, kill our deer

Ere I heave me in again!

Eyes of bats this is where I blubber on your safety pin

This homelife sicks us like wives & lovers, they want to be
riven by us

This is where I left without you You didn’t win

There are some words floating over these words like glue, to

dissever your broken head my home

I address my disc if I’m here           Are you sick?      I am Goy

I see        Do you?        (that’s the breaks)

The day that you came on is words        Smile        Even the

shoeshine is fearsome to you

It’s through it’s true; but all is not nothing as you say.

This covers me.

Morning flushes its gray light across where I collect a face, rimmed with brown hair, pierced with intellect. Sparking is pleasure, and parting is littered with soot, cigarette butts, these intimate incantations under the sheets. Let’s take a sentimental journey, you said. This is the first time I’ve written in longhand in over ten years. Out we go, but now it is over a vivid machine crosses the fact of your head American Citizen dilemmas odd glory fanatic hands point to a din first glory then Other pressing the point up and down ice forms to help a machine begin. Old contacts touching looks baby sighs prepositions broken discussions sandwiches books everyone knows but forgets nights back. As usual however I go back to the white again light on up head falling down vivid scenes that last years and wrote this because of her. Does so. Her arrival telling me that he knew and saying that she was glad to see it, geniuses I tell you I was shocked! a tongue was saying The damage is already done i.e. She has been my friend now for some years though far away upstairs. Later glee pills light ambition a tonsillectomy greed throbbing risings under the table a girl brown hair lovely exercises sycamores growing across miles to this you. One thing comes to another in place of itself. And so we come together in this bed out of a finger gesture mouth gesture Other beginning again now growing to be a part of this.

Baby sighs prepositions put the books back nights. As usual I go back to the white again light on up had fallen down on a vivid little scene last
year
. Wrote this because of
HIM
(does) arrival and Ron telling me that he knew and saying he was glad to see it was very shocking close the fire wine and only “I’m going to bed” outside, and stood running on about his father borders on the absurd ah would you remember the name of whomever hit it, thinking that a little about Dad tho lusted, sex have some son we’re in the church wedding but Ron, as we rolled over the baby in the Western movie at the Palace Death of the one could get conventional things, we did, yellow oozings brain & blood a sacrosanct creation bit bite toothpick? a Portuguese on the phone and and pardner I knew, and two for me (if I wanted
any
) oh she is square no articulate no devout but uh I want to do it uh do want (it) which is a small brick cottage a couple of years of Catullus, brother dog air if you’re describing my bookshelf. . . . Looking for Harry and I knew worms en fold interesting things out in front ice-cream sandwich terrific speed he said “Nothing” tried nothing a quivery sort of fellow rolls toward sister mother sister the second sister that long silver hair Irish brogue to the world. Candid roof the ditty about the stick because of “instructions”. I respect that father and the heat goes off (away) you cool a pepsi ok I do in to, off of, or on a table with a girl whom I recognize as she must crawl continually through gunfire men logginess then noise pills. And began smashing Ron in the theories especially against the Arm no hum in that air a number of me’s. They were cloth. It was a night club, pill mind. In fact I think mornings. We walk I see Ron sitting near a light bulb since sent away it needs oil zzzzzzzzzzz keeps us warm trying to hit him with canes to score “marksman” (penis decline) the white flat is in the air made up of mere shape. Suddenly someone
else came I con love for her. She was very shortly afterwards words. God’s noises make no sense to me. “Seen the movie?” Ron asked but the condition: silence. Pull thin things in the house discover the emergency break the “yes”. Turned from walking Tessie half-naked cloth pony from a fight the importance of the situation I can’t stop

Put the books back   the brown hair pierced the shower 40 below   the bugles call the powder where the light turn on again pleasure falling parting to go a light lady dark lady spy glasses littered with soot scenes years of writing this News shunted aside that’s the penalty denial of lifelong release and these intimate incantations under the sheets that we know will go on. Rubbing the back of the neck line of teeth a tongue saying the damage is already done. A journey taken by hand over a period years arms legs learning what is yours in her and in her father clickety-clack no that was another father a crowd formed that night truly going into the earth near where one exercises the shine the awl the wheel hidden shoes ruined ghosts rallies . . . your absolute lovely attentions . . . lust plastered upon us. Today we speak above the noise of the bed during the bite but before the big bite emanating thanks from the ruins . . . boys and partner you can believe I knew the world again through pranks the essence of my behavior to clothe the earth a simple way premonitions a chance and later glee pills a flat white light bulb in yellow air throbbings over the times puzzles rising from the seat on a cool night to love change love remember . . . The table under it a girl whom we all recognize . . . how many goats are there in it . . . heat flashing on and off movies glazed motives gunfire gaits.

Beginning with a memory of childhood New York’s lovely weather hurts my forehead the shower 40 below bugles call to the powder house here where clean snow is sitting Edmund Burke Jacques Vaché returns from the library as hand-in-glove and head-to-head with Joe she was writing to him. This man was my friend. Already done I go reeling up First Avenue to Klein’s formality dogtags 100 yds Christmas is sexy there; we feel soft sweaters to learn what is ours passion principles love and plump rumpled skirts we’d like to buy to laugh a coarse laugh on the rough edge of youth. It was gloomy being broke today, and baffled the old memento fill-in-the-blanks help! it’s love again in love; Love, why do you always take my heart away? Meaning of the verb to laugh. But then the soft snow came sweetly falling down brief farewell death song of the quilt the Sunset Motel head in the clouds and feet soaked in mush drugs sex jail food shelter smoke lines across the truce I rushed hatless into the white and shining air arms legs trucks passing over them glad of the volumes of meaning of the verb to find release in heaven’s care.

Never hits us the day it’s lovely gathers us up in its name who pierced the shower 40 below the heel hidden shoes the ruined exercises the shine is all night again pleasure falling off parting the bed during the biting lust. Today we speak above the noise a spyglass littered with soot scenes from the ruins boys and partners before the big bite imitating that’s the penalty denial of gain through pranks the essence of belief. I knew the world of incantations under the sheets of the neck line of the teeth behavior cloth the earth that we know we will go on rubbing. There’s this Lady she has been my friend for some years now and later glee pills
a light bulb a tongue saying the damage is done by hands over a period running overtime puzzles rising for some years journeys arms legs learning what is yours love change love remember across passion truly going into the earth No that was another earth how many goats were there on it her and her father movies glazed motives: Put the books back the brown hair simple ways premonitions chance bugles calling the powder flat white in yellow air throbbing then going on off a light lady dark lady cool nights meaning years of writing this news shunted aside before a girl whom you all know and recognize flashing on then off hear lifelong release in these intimate gaits.

At a quarter past six he sat & said “where’s your brother? pull down thy sex it’s blue shot thru with green the head he said it’s in the milk he said “woe unto you also, ye lawyers.” Enough. The father seems willing to cooperate thus a new weather term is born, “no thought for your life and casual abductors.” Some years now have been “hot” weather, it gets you down every time. Ode To The Confederate Dead and that one, “The Man” sucks candy. Did. Its a cross between hot and cold running passion, blood, erudition, paper-bag-pooper passion, yes, he is an agent of ours, December 7th, 1941. What’s the racket? Erudition jargon current jargon, many things are current, much success which has to mean trouble. What else? Now it is thinking in more sex drugs food shelter jail and the north (south) love shall set down laws strait east gait gasp pant whoop holler Capture the Flag (Remember that?) Signs the inform burial cured sent out west to be drycleaned hanging on a line (my line) I pass out hand out among you with promises of.

Now my mother’s apron unfolds again in my life pills black backs of books I can’t stand movies I can’t stand Snow not reminded (revealed) The World I can’t stand candid roof the ditty about the stick (introspection) because of instructions forget nights. And so we come together in this bed out of a finger gesture mouth other exercises before the big bite imitating that’s the penalty denial of gain the shine where one exercises the shine the awl the wheel the hidden shoes ruined a particular buttressing of the body. The End. No Smoking in this Room. To track the beast down. To know. The many faces of Jesse James resplendent on a rock at Spuyten Duyvil and his dog at the end of a leash chasing a tiger in advance of the broken arm beginning with a memory of childhood New York’s lovely weather absence of passion grace principles love.

Lady, she has been my friend for some years sketches, I haven’t explained Actually of horror subject to neither of our laws intimate incantations under the sheets tried nothing a quivery sort of fellow hurts my forehead this shower No thought for your life and casual abductors in books I cant stand if it die. The life range examination as I am a cowboy it is unless it isnt and you imaginary scenes soot years of writing this most of it movies I cant stand a particular buttressing of the body. Olive green color. Let’s take a sentimental journey. Dont forget to bleed. I have. Many days writing the same work into itself the appearance of a role but How dark for some forty years Irish brogue rolls toward sister mother shunted aside that’s the penalty of time or of space Certainly not a place. So we come together in this bed. Later glee (lie) now pills (no lie) The End. Bugles call no snow to the powderhouse the library abductors, woe unto you also ye lawyers! No. Not reminded, I go (revealed) (No Smoking In This Room)

FOR DICK GALLUP

Take one hymn out west and back in step, step and punch how well circle the nervous breakdown ring the sorrel and let the eros stop. The mountains cleft ascended into these poems and appeared, the clefts, you heard about it? Very dark while. no cud, no scratch. To scratch they are still, the circus stops. Drop. It is only cuds and farewell of weeping to the civilian, a truss, the ceiling with passion trailing through it too. Don’t forget “to bleed.” Caught the buds of other areas easy she is the only girl in the dripping from the peel owl eels follow me down if you follow me there. Some say its the shelf that gets you there. Culled into the house they sleep eyeing the several, oh rose, the unquenchable variety. Mountainous beasts. Young men starting bottle it up for the trip. But vultures, famous dogs, right and left, succumbing to the bombing, see them go. The bomb. And so we left, one eye shut, often lingering in the yellow air. Don’t forget the dirty yellow lawn cracked beneath the blue triremes, the dishes, too late
already washed
. Them in that, already clogging it up, leaving shit as they do. No one knows movement of brilliant silence. She looks to know who I am. The fog envelops me like a life she wears two stories high approaching fresh in from the army. My army. The audience three times two in appeals pills the still steel world some horses. Ring the pole and let the driplets drop. Where? There. Oh. Here there and everywhere one palm above the orange light brings forth the unquenchable variety, appearances, leaves, single amid blue skies. The Flies; by Jean Paul Sartre. But the trip had been moved up. You were there upon a southern dawn the Ode to the Confederate Dead faking a noble failure: the life range examination
olive green color. air. Narcolepsy. Clear the Range. The tropics. The story in that you would never occur. I mean, “to read”. Persia is not falling black backs fused the lack, the dishes, a fading dust went by sideways, the story to sing to those emperors, the lawn mowers, pressure driving behind their asses. Her wriggling wits.

Pills Epithalamium black backs of books I can’t stand Snow Movie I can’t stand not reminded I go my gold-leaf letters “other” policemen give me an immense push to attend your soft job dark sigh and I’m still around his hat is on instead ask about her here examinations No never still no matter down the alley comes a pair of trousers laughings attention still love will break into a girl who has been 15 months remembering nothing or other is keeping a song mind glibbed it here & here will con these and those (& me) now move on to the long ride to back alleys didn’t want to but liked to wear spats on the beach Father is and is obscure I wrote always on glass there quite a card its compiled on a card jest words driving hard sounds a machine in the oubliette nice thanks she held the 30 dollars close to her chest (breath) (death) shattered his pose in minute dental obligations who will pay seems ok the tiny excursion boat to row it seems like cheating the operation the bell movement O I see them nevertheless shall experience a week of bowling shirts joy operates as well on mother at the sea an oriental sort of brittleness now lost unless it isn’t most of it goes into itself the appearance of a role crying to confess getting punched and lonesome be still next the Olympic Games its the same old game jest a highfalutin name ah me that smites me chest (heart) reason agility Pill ahem steal books
huh? oh letters every way seem ineffectual its 4 o’clock bub time obsession well dis was a painting of an R a mill a watch and pills six of them raving on the mountain bones waving from Houston Texas a lion is in the house a tiny madonna and a snapshot of Max Ernst.