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

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.


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Poem Dream Song 120: Foes I sniff, when I have less to shout - John Berryman