God bless Henry. He lived like a rat,
with a thatch of hair on his head
in the beginning.
Henry was not a coward. Much.
He never deserted anything; instead
he stuck, when things like pity were thinning.
So may be Henry was a human being.
Let's investigate that.
... We did; okay.
He is a human American man.
That's true. My lass is braking.
My brass is aching. Come & diminish me, & map my way.
God's Henry's enemy. We're in business ... Why,
what business must be clear.
A cornering.
I couldn't feel more like it. -- Mr. Bones,
as I look on the saffron sky,
you strikes me as ornery.
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Comments1I ain't no poetry expert, but I've gotta say, John Berryman's work has never been my cup of tea. I remember reading this piece in younger days, but revisiting it just now didn't set off any spark. It's too abstract for my liking, can't really relate to it. And it's not that I don't understand his words or anything, it just doesn't move me, you know? Different strokes for different folks, I guess. Some might find it deep and thought-provoking, but to me it's kinda meh. Definitely not one of my faves.