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Dream Song 37: Three around the Old Gentleman

John Berryman

His malice was a pimple down his good
big face, with its sly eyes. I must be sorry
Mr Frost has left:
I like it so less I don't understood—
he couldn't hear or see well—all we sift—
but this is a bad story.

He had fine stories and was another man
in private; difficult, always. Courteous,
on the whole, in private.
He apologize to Henry, off & on,
for two blue slanders; which was good of him.
I don't know how he made it.

Quickly, off stage with all but kindness, now.
I can't say what I have in mind. Bless Frost,
any odd god around.
Gentle his shift, I decussate & command,
stoic deity. For a while here we possessed
an unusual man.

Added: 25 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 18 Jul 2018 12:17 PM | Viewed: 4006 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/3628/ | Viewed on 18 July 2018.
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