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Sonnet 21

John Berryman

Whom undone David upto the dire van sent
I'd see as far. I can't dislike that man,
Grievously and intensely like him even,
Envy nor jealousy admit, consent
Neither to the night of rustlers I frequent
Nor to this illness dreams them; but I can,
Only, that which we must: bright as a pan
Our love gleams, empty almost empty—lent.

...Did he, or not, see? I stood close to you
But our lips had broken and you could reply...
And is he clement? does he give us rope?
It is the owner drives one crazy, who
Came, or luck brought him, first; a police spy;
A kind and good man; with a gun; hunts hope.

Submitted by Holt

Added: 1 Mar 2004 | Last Read: 21 Oct 2018 1:19 PM | Viewed: 3391 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/9204/ | Viewed on 21 October 2018.
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