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Dream Song 9: Deprived of his enemy, shrugged to a standstill

Deprived of his enemy, shrugged to a standstill
Horrible Henry, foaming. Fan their way
Toward him who will
In the high wood: the officers, their rest,
With p. a. echoing: his girl comes, say,
Conned in to test

If he’s still human, see,
Therefore she get on the Sheriff’s mike & howl
‘Come down, come down’.
Therefore he un-budge, furious. He’d flee
But only Heaven hangs over him foul.
At the crossways, downtown,

He dreams the folks are buying parsnips & suds
And paying rent to foes. He slipt & fell.
It’s golden here in the snow.
A mild crack: a far rifle. Bogart’s duds
Truck back to Wardrobe. Fancy the brain from hell
Held out so long. Let go.

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Poem Dream Song 9: Deprived of his enemy, shrugged to a standstill - John Berryman