Dream Song 53: He lay in the middle of the world, and twicht

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1. Dream Song 131: Come touch me baby in his waking dream Come touch me baby in his waking dream Disordered Henry murmured. I’ll read you Hegel And that will hurt your mind I can’t remember when you were unkind But I will clear that block, I’ll set you on fire Along with our babies To save them up the high & ruined stairs, My growing daughters. […]...
2. Dream Song 26: The glories of the world struck me The glories of the world struck me, made me aria, once. Гўв‚”What happen then, Mr Bones? If be you cares to say. Гўв‚”Henry. Henry became interested in women’s bodies, His loins were & were the scene of stupendous achievement. Stupor. Knees, dear. Pray. All the knobs & softnesses of, my God, The ducking & trouble […]...
3. Dream Song 74: Henry hates the world. What the world to Henry Henry hates the world. What the world to Henry Did will not bear thought. Feeling no pain, Henry stabbed his arm and wrote a letter Explaining how bad it had been In this world. Old yellow, in a gown Might have made a difference, ‘these lower beauties’, And chartreuse could have mattered “Kyoto, Toledo, Benares—the […]...
4. Dream Song 66: 'All virtues enter into this world:') ‘All virtues enter into this world:’) A Buddhist, doused in the street, serenely burned. The Secretary of State for War, Winking it over, screwed a redhaired whore. Monsignor Capovilla mourned. What a week. A journalism doggy took a leak Against absconding coon (‘but take one virtue, Without which a man can hardly hold his own’) […]...
5. Dream Song 45: He stared at ruin. Ruin stared straight back He stared at ruin. Ruin stared straight back. He thought they was old friends. He felt on the stair Where her papa found them bare They became familiar. When the papers were lost Rich with pals’ secrets, he thought he had the knack Of ruin. Their paths crossed And once they crossed in jail; they […]...
6. Dream Song 44: Tell it to the forest fire, tell it to the moon Tell it to the forest fire, tell it to the moon, Mention it in general to the moon On the way down, He’s about to have his lady, permanent; And this is the worst of all came ever sent Writhing Henry’s way. Ha ha, fifth column, quisling, genocide, He held his hands & laught from […]...
7. Dream Song 107: Three 'coons come at his garbage. He be cross Three ‘coons come at his garbage. He be cross, I figuring porcupine & took Sir poker Unbarring Mr door, & then screen door. Ah, but the little ‘coon, Hardly a foot (not counting tail) got in with Two more at the porch-edge And they swirled, before some two swerve off This side of crab tree, […]...
8. Dream Song 27: The greens of the Ganges delta foliate The greens of the Ganges delta foliate. Of heartless youth made late aware he pled: Brownies, please come. To Henry in his sparest times sometimes The little people spread, & did friendly things; Then he was glad. Pleased, at the worst, except with the man, he shook The brightest winter sun. All the green lives […]...
9. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
10. Dream Song 48: He yelled at me in Greek He yelled at me in Greek, My God! —It’s not his language And I’m no good at—his Aramaic, Was—I am a monoglot of English (American version) and, say pieces from A baker’s dozen others: where’s the bread? But rising in the Second Gospel, pal: The seed goes down, god dies, A rising happens, Some crust, […]...
11. Dream Song 52: Silent Song Bright-eyed & bushy tailed woke not Henry up. Bright though upon his workshop shone a vise Central, moved in While he was doing time down hospital And growing wise. He gave it the worst look he had left. Alone. They all abandoned Henry—wonder! all, When most he—under the sun. That was all right. He can’t […]...
12. Dream Song 20: The Secret of the Wisdom When worst got things, how was you? Steady on? Wheedling, or shockt her & You have been bad to your friend, Whom not you writing to. You have not listened. A pelican of lies You loosed: where are you? Down weeks of evenings of longing By hours, NOW, a stoned bell, You did somebody: others […]...
13. Dream Song 34: My mother has your shotgun. One man, wide My mother has your shotgun. One man, wide In the mind, and tendoned like a grizzly, pried To his trigger-digit, pal. He should not have done that, but, I guess, He didn’t feel the best, Sister, —felt less And more about less than us. . . ? Now—tell me, my love, if you recall The […]...
14. Dream Song 103: I consider a song will be as humming-bird I consider a song will be as humming-bird Swift, down-light, missile-metal-hard, & strange As the world of anti-matter Where they are wondering: does time run backward— Which the poet thought was true; Scarlatti-supple; But can Henry write it? Wreckt, in deep danger, he shook once his head, Returning to meditation. And word had sped All […]...
15. Dream Song 19: Here, whence Here, whence All have departed orwill do, here airless, where That witchy ball Wanted, fought toward, dreamed of, all a green living Drops limply into one’s hands Without pleasure or interest Figurez-vous, a time swarms when the word ‘happy’ sheds its whole meaning, like to come and Like for memory too That morning arrived to […]...
16. Dream Song 110: It was the blue & plain ones. I forget all that It was the blue & plain ones. I forget all that. My own clouds darkening hung. Besides, it wasn’t serious. They took them in different rooms & fed them lies. ‘She admitted you wanted to get rid of it.’ ‘He told us he told you to.’ The Force, with its rapists con-men murderers, Has been […]...
17. Dream Song 116: Through the forest, followed, Henry made his silky way Through the forest, followed, Henry made his silky way, No chickadee was troubled, small moss smiled On his swift passage. But there were those ahead when at midday They met in a clearing and lookt at each other awhile. To kill was not the message. He only could go with them—odds? 20 to one-and-a-half; Pointless. […]...
18. Dream Song 54: 'NO VISITORS' I thumb the roller to ‘NO VISITORS’ I thumb the roller to And leans against the door. Comfortable in my horseblanket I prop on the costly bed & dream of my wife, My first wife, And my second wife & my son. Insulting, they put guardrails up, As if it were a crib! I growl at the head nurse; we […]...
19. Dream Song 87: Op. posth. no. 10 these hearings endlessly, friends, word is had Henry may be returning to our life Adult & difficult. There exist rumors that remote and sad And quite beyond the knowledge of his wife To the foothills of the cult Will come in silence this distinguished one Essaying once again the lower slopes In triumph, keeping up […]...
20. Dream Song 102: The sunburnt terraces which swans make home The sunburnt terraces which swans make home With water purling, Macchu Pichu died Like Delphi long ago— A message to Justinian closing it out, The thousand years’ authority, although Tho’ never found exactly wrong Political patterns did indeed emerge; The Oracle was conservative, like Lippmann, Roared the winds on the height, The Shining Ones behind […]...
21. Dream Song 49: Blind Old Pussy-cat if he won’t eat, he don’t Feel good into his tum’, old Pussy-cat. He wants to have eaten. Tremor, heaves, he sweaterings. He can’t. A dizzy swims of where is Henry at; . . . somewhere streng verboten. How come he sleeps & sleeps and sleeps, waking like death: Locate the restorations of […]...
22. Dream Song 14: Life, friends, is boring Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so. After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns, We ourselves flash and yearn, And moreover my mother told me as a boy (repeatedly) ‘Ever to confess you’re bored Means you have no Inner Resources.’ I conclude now I have no Inner resources, because I am […]...
23. Dream Song 88: Op. posth. no. 11 In slack times visit I the violent dead And pick their awful brains. Most seem to feel Nothing is secret more To my disdain I find, when we who fled Cherish the knowings of both worlds, conceal More, beat on the floor, Where Bhain is stagnant, dear of Henry’s friends, Yellow with cancer, paper-thin, & […]...
24. Dream Song 38: The Russian grin bellows his condolence The Russian grin bellows his condolence Tó the family: ah but it’s Kay, & Ted, & Chris & Anne, Henry thinks of: who eased his fearful way From here, in here, to there. This wants thought. I won’t make it out. Maybe the source of noble such may come Clearer to dazzled Henry. It may […]...
25. Dream Song 135: I heard said 'Cats that walk by their wild lone&#039 I heard said ‘Cats that walk by their wild lone’ But Henry had need of friends. They disappeared Shall I follow my dream? Clothes disappeared in a backward sliding, zones Shot into view, pocked, exact & weird: Who is what he seem? I will tell you now a story about Speck: After other cuts, he […]...
26. The Ancient World Today the Masons are auctioning Their discarded pomp: a trunk of turbans, Gemmed and ostrich-plumed, and operetta costumes Labeled inside the collar “Potentate” And “Vizier.” Here their chairs, blazoned With the Masons’ sign, huddled Like convalescents, lean against one another On the grass. In a casket are rhinestoned poles The hierophants carried in parades; Here’s […]...
27. Dream Song 324: An Elegy for W. C. W., the lovely man Henry in Ireland to Bill underground: Rest well, who worked so hard, who made a good sound Constantly, for so many years: Your high-jinks delighted the continents & our ears: You had so many girls your life was a triumph And you loved your one wife. At dawn you rose & wrote—the books poured forth— […]...
28. Dream Song 114: Henry in trouble whirped out lonely whines Henry in trouble whirped out lonely whines. When ich when was ever not in trouble? But did he whip out whines Afore? And when check in wif ales & lifelines Anyone earlier O? —Some, now, Mr Bones, Many. —I am fleeing double: Mr Past being no friends of mine, All them around: Sir Future Dubious, […]...
29. A Spring Piece Left In The Middle Taut, thick fingers punch The teeth of my typewriter. Three words are down on paper in capitals: SPRING SPRING SPRING… And me poet, proofreader, The man who’s forced to read Two thousand bad lines every day for two liras Why, since spring has come, am I still sitting here like a ragged black chair? My […]...
30. Dream Song 43: 'Oyez, oyez!' The Man Who Did Not Deliver ‘Oyez, oyez!’ The Man Who Did Not Deliver Is before you for his deliverance, my lords. He stands, as charged For This by banks, That cops, by lawyers, by Publishingers for Them. I doubt he’ll make Old bones. Be. I warned him, of a summer night: consist, Consist. Ex-wives roar. Further, the Crown holds that […]...
31. We say we say blame the teachers Don’t we send our young to school To be taught the simple rules For decent public-spirited behaviour Do we pay such crushing rates To have our children turned to louts We’re sick of all this fuss We say blame the teachers Or the preachers They’re all the same to us […]...
32. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
33. The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
34. Dream Song 132: A Small Dream A Small Dream It was only a small dream of the Golden World, Now you trot off to bed. I’ll turn the machine off, You’ve danced & trickt us enough. Unintelligible whines & imprecations, hurled From the second floor, fail to impress your mother And I am the only other And I say go to […]...
35. PUBLISHERS And then they pretend like owls With marble eyes and wizened stupidity I do not know why they cannot perceive True art But I will write Until sand evaporates And the moon consumes the sun I will write Even for the sake of art For myself and for those who feel Reading could lift them […]...
36. To a Child of Quality, Five Years Old, 1704. The Author then Forty LORDS, knights, and squires, the numerous band That wear the fair Miss Mary’s fetters, Were summoned by her high command To show their passions by their letters. My pen amongst the rest I took, Lest those bright eyes, that cannot read, Should dart their kindling fire, and look The power they have to be obey’d. […]...
37. The House Was Quiet And The World Was Calm The house was quiet and the world was calm. The reader became the book; and summer night Was like the conscious being of the book. The house was quiet and the world was calm. The words were spoken as if there was no book, Except that the reader leaned above the page, Wanted to lean, […]...
38. The World State Oh, how I love Humanity, With love so pure and pringlish, And how I hate the horrid French, Who never will be English! The International Idea, The largest and the clearest, Is welding all the nations now, Except the one that’s nearest. This compromise has long been known, This scheme of partial pardons, In ethical […]...
39. Dream Song 23: The Lay of Ike This is the lay of Ike. Here’s to the glory of the Grewt WhiteГўв‚”awkГўв‚” Who has been runningГўв‚”erГўв‚”erГўв‚”things in recentГўв‚”echГўв‚” In the UnitedГўв‚”If your screen is black, Ladies & gentlemen, weГўв‚”I likeГўв‚” At the Point he was already terrificГўв‚”sick To a second term, having done no wrongГўв‚” No rightГўв‚”no  – rightГўв‚”having let the ArmyГўв‚”bangГўв‚” […]...
40. Dream Song 35: MLA Hey, out there! —assistant professors, full, Associates, —instructors—others—any— I have a sing to shay. We are assembled here in the capital City for Dull—and one professor’s wife is Mary— At Christmastide, hey! And all of you did theses or are doing And the moral history of what we were up to Thrives in Sir Wilson’s […]...