Jon Corelis wrote:
> Dream Song 153
Looking at a birthday, yet another, in 7 minutes, it is time for the
annual stock-taking. Alas, the market is not trading. There is
Berryman again, mordant-comic, Song 29 building to that scary pre-dawn
finish:
There sat down, once, a thing on Henry's heart
só heavy, if he had a hundred years
& more, & weeping, sleepless, in all them time
Henry could not make good.
Starts again always in Henry's ears
the little cough somewhere, an odour, a chime.
And there is another thing he has in mind
like a grave Sienese face a thousand years
would fail to blur the still profiled reproach of. Ghastly,
with open eyes, he attends, blind.
All the bells say: too late. This is not for tears;
thinking.
But never did Henry, as he thought he did,
end anyone and hacks her body up
and hide the pieces, where they may be found.
He knows: he went over everyone, & nobody's missing.
Often he reckons, in the dawn, them up.
Nobody is ever missing.
--------------------
Ken Wolman rainermaria.typepad.com
"For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I
was afraid of is come unto me. I was not in safety, neither had I
rest, neither was I quiet; yet trouble came."
