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Dream Song 120: Foes I sniff, when I have less to shout

John Berryman

Foes I sniff, when I have less to shout
or murmur. Pals alone enormous sounds
downward & up bring real.
Loss, deaths, terror. Over & out,
beloved: thanks for cabbage on my wounds:
I'll feed you how I feel:—

of avocado moist with lemon, yea
formaldehyde & rotting sardines O
in our appointed time
I would I could a touch more fully say
my consentless mind. The senses are below,
which in this air sublime

do I repudiate. But foes I sniff!
My nose in all directions! I be so brave
I creep into an Arctic cave
for the rectal temperature of the biggest bear,
hibernating—in my left hand sugar.
I totter to the lip of the cliff.

Added: 5 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 20 Jul 2018 4:20 AM | Viewed: 4472 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/5700/ | Viewed on 20 July 2018.
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