poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

I miss him. When I get back to camp
I'll dig him up. Well, he can prop & watch,
can't he, pink or blue,
and I will talk to him. I miss him. Slams,
grand or any, aren't for the tundra much.
One face-card will do.

It's marvellous how four sit down—beyond
my thought how many tables sometimes are 
in forgotten clubs
across & down the world. Your fever conned
us, pal. Will it work out, my solitaire?
The blubber's safe in the tubs,

the dogs are still, & all's well . . . nine long times
I loosed & buried. Then I shot him dead.
I don't remember why.
The Captain of the supply ship, playing for dimes, 
thinks I killed him. The black cards are red
and where's the others? I—

Added: 5 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 3 Sep 2026 9:22 AM | Viewed: 5990 times

A PoetryNotes™ Analysis of Dream Song 111: I miss him. When I get back to camp by John Berryman, is Available!

A PoetryNotes™ eBook is available for this poem for delivery within 24 hours, and usually available within minutes during normal business hours.

ON SALE - only $29.95 19.95!

For more information...