The Collected Poems of Ted Berrigan (13 page)

It’s 8:54 a.m. in Brooklyn it’s the 26th of July

and it’s probably 8:54 in Manhattan but I’m

in Brooklyn     I’m eating English muffins and drinking

Pepsi and I’m thinking of how Brooklyn is New

York City too    how odd       I usually think of it

as something all its own     like Bellows Falls      like

Little Chute       like Uijongbu

I never thought

on the Williamsburg Bridge I’d come so much to Brooklyn

just to see lawyers and cops who don’t even carry guns

taking my wife away and bringing her back

No

and I never thought Dick would be back at Gude’s

beard shaved off long hair cut and Carol reading

his books when we were playing cribbage and watching

the sun come up over the Navy Yard across

the river

I think I was thinking

when I was ahead I’d be somewhere like Perry street

erudite dazzling slim and badly-loved

contemplating my new book of poetry

to be printed in simple type on old brown paper

feminine marvelous and tough

FOR JAMES SCHUYLER

New York’s lovely weather hurts my forehead

here where clean snow is sitting, wetly

round my ears, as hand-in-glove and

head-to-head with Joe, I go reeling

up First Avenue to Klein’s. Christmas

is sexy there. We feel soft sweaters

and plump rumpled skirts we’d like to try.

It was gloomy being broke today, and baffled

in love: Love, why do you always take my heart away?

But then the soft snow came sweetly falling down

and head in the clouds, feet soaked in mush

I rushed hatless into the white and shining air,

glad to find release in heaven’s care.

There we were, on fire with being there, then

And so we put our pants on

And began to get undressed. You were there, then

And there where you were, we were. And I

Was there, too! We had no pants on.

And I saw your penis there. It was right there, where

We were, and it was with us. We looked at it, there

And you said, “Why hello there, Oliver!” to me, there

Beside you, without any pants on, there where I

Could hear you saying, “Why hello there!”

Then Frank came in, and George, and Bill, and Cannonball, and Frank;

And Simon, Jonas, Jennie-Lou, and Bob; and gentle Millie-Jean;

And Hannibal the Alp; and they took off their hats and coats

And all began to puke. They puked on Cal, and on Billy, and

On Benjamin, Lucifer, Jezebel, Asthmador and Frank. Then they left.

Frank was much younger then, there, and he had hair

On his belly; he looked like a model-aeroplane; a dark, gloomy

Navel in its tail; and you were there, there

In his tail: you were there and

Hair was there, and air was there, there, up in the air, among

The hair. And you were saying, “Why, hello there!”

And your pants, when you finally put them on there

Had a hole in them, there, where your penis was, before it flew

Away from there to find itself. And the hole there was wide

And it was deep. It was dark there; and

Supersonic Aeroplanes were there. And they were whirring.

“Whirrr-whirrr-whirrr,” went the throbbing aeroplanes, as

They zoomed out at us from in there; for we were there, where

Your pants met the sea, and we were glad! I was there, and Jock

And Zack, and Brett; and we met your penis passing by. It said,

“Goodbye mild starlight of The Sign of Fawn,” as it rode

into the galaxy named ‘Fangs.’

FOR ANNE KEPLER

1

FUCK COMMUNISM

it’s red white and blue

in the bathroom

(Tuli’s)

One dollar, you Mother!

Make all your friends

STOP
!

(now there’s an idea)

ARTFORUM

723½ North Cienega Blvd

Los Angeles, California

Back to the wall

(it’s all in California)

Thanks to Jack

I mean it’s all right here

it’s morning

and I’m looking        over the wall

at Mr. Pierre Loti         and his nameless dog

they work well        together

on paper         i.e. this here

chasing a tiger across white expansiveness

that is not lacking in significance

(what is?)

THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION

circa 1967

2

The apples are red again in Chandler’s valley

redder for what happened there

never did know what it was

never did care

The End

on a pillow

naturally

a doormat            lust            steam            a hiss                Guilty!

I see some handwriting on the wall

of the Williamsburg Bridge

intersection

New York Post      ten cents

tip the newsboy

over

a million

laughs

that’s the party line

yes

he’s working on the paper:

Mr. Horatio Alger

(he has a lovely talent)

thank you

here’s your change

3

I’m touched

here, take this penny

there is no need for the past

the sun is out

it’s night

I mean

it is night

and I love you better

since

this seizure / of my eyeballs

•

Take off those Fug panties!

Go ahead

it’s a big world

The big guys do it

TO ANNIE

(between Oologah & Pawnee)

Guillaume Apollinaire

4

The bodies of my days

open up

in the garden

of

my memory,

America

•

I have had the courage to look backward

it was like polio

I shot my mouth off

•

I NEED MONEY

that money

that at least

at last

means less

than a Band-aid

or a toadstool

•

OUCH
!

that Band-aid has an
OUCH
! in it

Who notices a toadstool in the street?

Everyone

who has on

a Band-aid

That toadstool has a Band-aid on it

5

(to Brett deBary)

“He doesn’t know how to take a vacation”

Dick

doesn’t know how to take a vacation

either

That is not to infer

that Dick is a toad

under his Band-aid

far from it

a toad is a cold-blooded fellow

Dick is warm and full of blood

When you leave, Dick

turn the refrigerator

to vacation please

6

Now I’m going to read 3 cereal poems:

CORN FLAKES

OATMEAL

RY-KRISP

thank you

they were composed

excuse me

I mean
NOT
composed

using the John-Cage-Animal-Cracker

Method of Composition

(this seems to be mushrooming into a

major work

of high

seriousness)

•

I’d fight for that!

(I didn’t have to.)

7

True Love

there is only one way

to describe

“True Love”

does anyone know

that one way?

•

Mr. Nelson Algren

1958 West Evergreen

Chicago, Illinois

•

In Chicago, Illinois, you

are really at home

whether you like it or not, baby,

and, whether you like it

or not

You Are My Friend

so don’t pees me off!

8

Come into my house

tonight

Dick

and I will show you

this new work

“House at Night”

It & this page, there not here, are not the same

except in a

manner of

speaking

it is not

“A Portrait of Jean-Marie”

tho it cd be

it is also not

“A Portrait of Barbara Harris”

whom I don’t know

though I like her plenty

she’s a lot like me

(my own name is

“Mr. Brigadoon”)

9

I am constantly being caught up

in my own commotion

it is now a slow commotion

The radio is turning me on

10

Commotion over, clothes in hand I wait

in Mr. Ron Padgett’s furlined

bridge-jacket

who shivers now

in Paris, Oklahoma

between Galveston &

Mobile a word

incidentally

invented

cross that out

coined

by Mr. Marcel Duchamp

to describe a

lady finger

11

it’s too cold in here / but not for me

in my present balloon state / to write this love song

“Cold rosy dawn in New York City”

hovering over the radio

de-dum

12

I woke up this morning

it was night

you were on my mind                               
LADY BRETT

looking for a home

for the boll weevil

nothing like that in New York City

it’s all in Oklahoma

where you-all

can learn to talk like me

if “you-all” is Mr.

Ron Padgett, “The

American Express”

13

He’s a good friend of mine

although                                   he fears he is unable to love

people

who have politesse

whatever that may be

thanks anyway, Frank

you’re not without con brio

n’es ca’fe
?

(thanks, Ed)

14

I quote

from “The Code of the West”

a work

by Mr. Ed Sanders

whose “Poem From Jail”

I highly recommend

On second thought

I quote instead

This work

by Mr. Marcel Duchamp

which

oddly enough

I also give high recommendation

15

THE CODE OF THE WEST

  1.   Sob when you read “Black Beauty.”

  2.   The true test of a man is a bunt.

  3.   Dare to do your duty.

  4.   Press the tip of the tongue on the gums

behind the upper teeth as for t, and expel

the breath with vibrations of the vocal cords.

  5.   He went to the windows of those who slept

and over each pain like a fairy wept.

  6.   Halt!

  7.   Loosen your snood.

  8.   Close your eyes and doze.

  9.   Jove! Jove! This shepherd’s passion

is much upon my fashion!

10.   Drill.

16

you know

once people paid no attention to me

Mayakovsky

in the garden of my memory

& now

passion’s flower

wilts

constantly

because

my lady love is a Holy Roller!

her body is a sponge

it has no mud

Tonight’s heat

will dry that mud

and it will fall into dust

I’m ready for it

the body I mean

not the dust

however if you are in the dust

kindly hop into this tub of black water please

now hand me that quail

lean me against the belly of a woman

(you are that woman)

17

knock on the door of her house

knock-knock

the sun is out

river flowing in a window

a geranium trembling automobile

droning

across the screen

Turn back to look

you don’t see

the door open

you are standing there

I mean

I am sitting here

between the door

to a world full of others

like yourselves

and the droning solitude of this here Los Angeles

Freeway

•

How to get off?

18

Hi, Bears!

do you believe in magic?

good!

because I am here

to make a monkey out of you

The best way

to make yrself a monkey

is to jump down

(spin around)

pick a bale of cotton

if you don’t understand

that

you will never understand

your country’s history

1000 volumes a year

ooze from the minds

of dead monkeys

and yet

we are still too dull

to understand

them

or that

                         it is not at all unpleasant

to be kissed by a monkey