The Collected Poems of Ted Berrigan Read online

  The big green day today is singing to itself

  A vast orange library of dreams, dreams

  Dressed in newspaper, wan as pale thighs

  Making vast apple strides towards “The Poems.”

  “The Poems” is not a dream. It is night. You

  Are asleep. Vast orange libraries of dreams

  Stir inside “The Poems.” On the dirt-covered ground

  Crystal tears drench the ground. Vast orange dreams

  Are unclenched. It is night. Songs have blossomed

  In the pale crystal library of tears. You

  Are asleep. A lovely light is singing to itself,

  In “The Poems,” in my eyes, in the line, “Guillaume

  Apollinaire is dead.”

  A year or so later

  another poet told me that he really liked that poem.

  First of all, he said,

  I can’t tell any one of your sonnets

  from any other one,

  but this one I can.

  I was afraid of that.

  Jim Brodey

  Lonesome Train

  • • •

  Assassination Bizarre

  • •

  I’m the girl in the rain the girl on the street

  the girl in the trance the girl at your feet the

  girl who just got off the girl who plays the piano

  the girl who fucks the girl in the red sweater the

  girl in the airplane the girl in Mexico the girl

  in the lake the girl from the Village the girl

  in heaven the girl on the run the girl at the

  bank the girl upstairs the girl in the photograph

  the girl on the sofa the nervous girl

  the girl under pressure the girl with the yellow

  cup

  I asked Tuli Kupferberg once, “Did you really jump off of

  The Manhattan Bridge?” “Yeah,” he said, “I really did.” “How

  come?” I said. “I thought that I had lost the ability to love,”

  Tuli said. “So, I figured I might as well be dead. So, I went one

  night to the top of The Manhattan Bridge, & after a few minutes,

  I jumped off.” “That’s amazing,” I said. “Yeah,” Tuli said,

  “but nothing happened. I landed in the water, & I wasn’t dead.

  So I swam ashore, & went home, & took a bath, & went to

  bed. Nobody even noticed.”

  If I could live it over, I wouldn’t

  but I wouldn’t mind watching the movie

  a big talkie

  a big ghost

  Get it while you can

  the secret is this:

  Absolutely Without Regret

  don’t mess

  back off

  steer clear

  but

  I doan wanna hear anymore about

  that

  I doan wanna hear any more about that

  I doan wanna hear any more about that

  I doan wanna hear any more about that

  I doan wanna hear any more about that

  I doan wanna hear any more about that

  I doan wanna hear any more about you I doan wanna hear any more

  about you

  I doan wanna hear any more about you

  I doan wanna hear any more about you

  I doan wanna hear any more about you

  I doan wanna hear any more about them

  I doan wanna hear any more about him

  I don’t wanna hear any more about President Nixon

  (repeat)

  There goes another geese on his way

  to death

  blam blam

  b

  u

  c

  k

  s

  h

  o

  t

  I tried my best to do my father’s will

  You don’t want me baby got to have me any-how.

  I tried my best to do my father’s will

  You don’t want me baby got to have me any-how.

  Oh Lord,

  have mercy

  Oh Lord,

  have mercy

  Oh Lord,

  have mercy

  Have mercy,

  Lord.

  If it don’t come across

  FUCK IT

  & if your heart ain’t in it,

  ditto.

  I met myself

  in a dream

  Everything was just all right

  Here comes two of you

  Which one will be true?

  I’m beginning

  to see the light

  How does it feel?

  It feels,

  Out of sight!

  “The trumpets are coming from another station

  and you do your best to tune them out”

  says Mike

  the wisest-assed guy I know.

  “If my manner of song disturbs the dead the living

  and the near dead it is because

  near the dead end you can’t dance”

  —Andrei Codrescu

  John Garfield William Saroyan Clarisse Rivers Harris Schiff

  Ray Bremser Lewis MacAdams Tom Clark Bernadette

  “Everybody’s a hero.

  Everybody makes you cry.”

  It makes you grin to say that

  But you didn’t say it

  You dreamed it

  in the after-life

  I am not that man.

  This February I dream when it’s my turn to go to the moon (doom)

  a little piece of string will be hanging outside

  my window as I rise, arise

  but I am not that woman

  I am the man who couldn’t kiss his mother

  goodbye.

  But I could leave.

  & so I left.

  & now, on visits, we kiss

  Hello, Goodbye.

  & I have no other thoughts about it, Memorial Day.

  O you who are dead, we rant at the sky

  no action

  but pain in the heart

  & a head that don’t understand

  the meaning of “heart” or “have heart”

  or

  “take heart”

  She is walking away with herself

  away from despair

  she’s that lucky girl!

  graceful, &

  complicated head

  (heart)

  Who’s keeping me alive

  & what

  I praise the lord for every day you & you & you & you & you

  & you & you & you

  Brothers & Sisters

  You are with me on Sweet Remembrance Day.

  & Now the book is closed

  The windows are closed The door is closed

  The house is closed

  The bars are closed

  The gas station is closed

  The streets are closed

  The store is closed

  The car is closed

  The rain is closed

  Red is closed

  & yellow is closed

  & green is closed

  The bedroom is closed

  The desk is closed

  The chair is closed

  The geraniums are closed

  The triangle is closed

  The orange is closed

  The shine is closed The sheen is closed

  The light is closed

  The cigar is closed

  The dime is closed

  The pepsi is closed

  The airport is closed

  The mailbox is closed

  The fingernail is closed

  The ankle is closed

  The skeleton is closed

  The melon is closed

  The angel is closed The football is closed

  The coffee is closed The grass is closed

  The tree is closed

  The sky is dark

  The dark is closed

  The bri
dge is closed

  The movie is closed

  The girl is closed The gods are closed

  The blue is closed

  The white is closed

  The sun is closed

  The ship is closed

  The army is closed

  The war is closed

  The poolcue is closed

  Six is closed

  eight is closed

  four is closed

  Seven is closed

  The lab is closed The bank is closed The Times is closed

  The leaf is closed

  The bear is closed

  Lunch is closed

  New York City is closed

  Texas is closed

  New Orleans is closed

  Miami is closed

  Okmulgee is closed

  Sasebo is closed

  Cranston is closed

  The Fenway is closed

  Bellevue is closed

  Columbia is closed

  9th Street is closed

  2nd Street is closed

  First Avenue is closed

  Horatio St. is closed

  66 is closed

  Painting is closed Leibling is closed

  Long Island is closed

  Stones are closed The afternoon is closed

  The friends are closed

  & Daddy is closed

  & brother is closed & sister is

  closed

  Your mother is closed

  & I am closed—& I am closed

  & tears are closed

  & the hole is closed & the boat has left & the day is closed.

  Short Poems

  IN A BLUE RIVER

  FOR KENNETH KOCH

  Evelyn Waugh’s Prayer

  Here I am again.

  Show me what to do,

  help me to do it.

  Ezra Pound: A Witness

  insouciant

  one can only are

  Salut!

  Today is Courty Bryan’s birthday,

  O weep, ye fiends!

  Man Alone

  In front of him was

  his head.

  Behind him were

  men.

  He was a man alone.

  bear with me

  Category

  MOONDOG

  Buddhist Text

  The

  Elephant

  is

  the

  wisest

  of

  all

  animals,

  the

  only

  one

  who

  remembers

  his

  former

  lives;

  and

  he

  remains

  motionless

  for

  long

  periods

  of

  time,

  meditating

  thereon.

  Beautiful Poem

  FOR EDWARD DORN

  “And the nights shall be filled with music

  And the cares that infect the day

  Shall fold up their tents like soldiers

  Gone, O these are soldiers unique to our day!”

  Setback

  In the first stage of the revolution

  In an attempt to establish & maintain

  a fixed base

  He was wounded in the foot, & had to

  withdraw into the interior.

  Seriousness

  A natural bent, no doubt

  Chair

  FOR LARRY FAGIN

  Blue

  be the sky

  & soft

  the breeze

  Today

  offers Gertrude Stein

  a chance

  to burn leaves.

  Poem

  I’m lying in bed

  reading this

  & that

  another person

  sits up straight

  breathes he’s

  different.

  Here

  I go in &

  sit down

  at this desk.

  Kinks

  I am kinks.

  slack

  The Light

  I cannot reach it.

  Evensong

  Light

  spreads

  evenly

  from face to

  face.

  Destroys the race.

  Shaking Hands

  FOR DAVID BERRIGAN

  This city night

  you walk in

  no virgin think of me

  as I think of you

  Near the Ocean

  I am in bed

  with a crab.

  Cowboy Song

  A woman’s love

  is like

  the morning dew

  it’s just as apt

  to fall on

  a radiant horseturd

  as on a rose.

  Connecticut

  Beautiful girl.

  Purple lights.

  Foot Asleep.

  Nothing happened.

  Poem

  FOR LARRY FAGIN

  You are lovely.

  I am lame.

  L’oeil

  Picasso would be very

  intellectual

  if he were a fish.

  An Observation

  To England’s very great relief,

  Pierre Reverdy did not write, The Wasteland.

  Poem Made after Re-reading

  the Wonderful Book of Poetry,

  “Air”, by Tom Clark, Seven Years

  Since He First Sent It to Me

  poem

  frogs

  mud February

  “in mothballs”

  Ah, me!

  To an Eggbeater

  You are very interesting

  because

  you are a talking

  eggbeater

  and that is interesting.

  Peter Rabbit came in

  under the covers & sd

  “Where’s the money?”

  Scene of Life at the Capitol

  Anne reads her Troubadour poem

  to the radiant black & white

  & brown bodies & face

  of the lady inmates

  of the Colorado State Pen,

  22 July, 1978, gorgeous summer afternoon.

  Paris Review

  (FOR ANTHONY STERN)

  Found Picasso

  Jean Cocteau

  &

  William Carlos Williams in

  a blue river

  in London.

  It’s Morning!

  a childe of

  the House

  of David

  sweeps

  in

  Zurich

  not old

  near

  a

  rose.

  Air

  Strong coffee in

  our cups

  Crystal & Blue

  4 a.m. in Zurich

  Lassie

  mit Voltaire?

  Sun and Moon in the same Sky?

  Nice day.

  Keep my

  Comb at your

  house . . .

  I Do It All For You.

  Amsterdam

  You had gone for a drive in the

  country

  I was crying in

  a Japanese

  bar

  Now I’m having a coke with you!

  A True Story

  Childe of the House

  of David

  night

  She

  is the new sound

  of the rain

  & so they wed

  and lived together forever.

  On St. Mark’s Place

  We

  fight

  in

  our

  sleep

  the

  right

  angles

  angels

  “on St. Mark’s Place.”

  Just Frien
ds

  O Rose,

  “the unquenchable variety,”

  the patient

  survived—

  but the

  operation

  was not a

  success . . .

  • • •

  I was visited by the Scorpion, the Eagle, &

  the dove . . . .

  For Rosina

  there

  his red nose

  & bare long legs

  perfectly still

  so rare

  in a perfect

  chair

  his eyes

  grew red

  and full

  & then she went away.

  where?

  his tiny

  heart stopped.

  And stopped again here.

  By Now

  I’m a piece of local architecture

  built only because it had to be.

  UNCOLLECTED SHORT POEMS

  Today Chicago

  Sunlit

  oblongs

  Bramble

  Transfer

  Time of

  Major energy product

  highly reduced

  for the sake

  of maintaining scale.

  Laments

  So long, Jimi,

  Janis, so long.

  You both are great.

  We love you.

  But, O, my babies,

  you did it wrong.

  Winter

  The Moon is Yellow.

  My Nose is Red.

  Tell It Like It Is

  Bad Teeth

  Think of Anything

  The Rose of Sharon