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More poems by John BerrymanJohn Berryman | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by John BerrymanBooks by John Berryman

Dream Song 95: The surly cop looked out at me in sleep

John Berryman

The surly cop looked out at me in sleep
insect-like. Guess, who was the insect.
I'd asked him in my robe
& hospital gown in the elevator politely
why someone saw so many police around,
and without speaking he looked.

A meathead, and of course he was armed, to creep
across my nervous system some time ago wrecked.
I saw the point of Loeb
at last, to give oneself over to crime wholly,
baffle, torment, roar laughter, or without sound
attend while he is cooked

until with trembling hands hoist I my true
& legal ax, to get at the brains. I never liked brains—
it's the texture & the thought—
but I will like them now, spooning at you,
my guardian, slowly, until at lenght the rains
lose heart and the sun flames out.

Added: 25 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 21 Oct 2018 5:53 PM | Viewed: 3971 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/3687/ | Viewed on 21 October 2018.
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