“Dream Song 187 Them lady poets must not marry, pal. Miss Dickinson—fancy in Amherst bedding hér. Fancy a lark with Sappho, a tumble in the bushes with Miss Moore, a spoon with Emily, while Charlotte glare. Miss Bishop’s too noble-O.… — John Berryman Copy Share Image
“Huffy Henry hid the day, unappeasable Henry sulked. I see his point,--a trying to put things over. It was the thought that they thought… — John Berryman Copy Share Image
These Songs are not meant to be understood, you understand. They are only meant to terrify & comfort. — John Berryman Copy Share Image
“Springwater grow so thick it gonna clot and the pleasing ladies cease. I figure, yup, you is bad powers.” — John Berryman Copy Share Image
“The serious poet should seek to explore the 'sources' of these global nightmares-and to explore them not just in poetry, but in person. Poetry… — John Berryman Copy Share Image
I conclude now I have no inner resources, because I am heavy bored. Peoples bore me, literature bores me, especially great literature, — John Berryman Copy Share Image
Two daiquiris withdrew into a corner of a gorgeous room and one told the other a lie. — John Berryman Copy Share Image
I cry. Evil dissolves, & love, like foam; that love. Prattle of children powers me home, my heart claps like the swan's under a… — John Berryman Copy Share Image
“The Prayer of the Middle-Aged Man Amid the doctors in the Temple at twelve, between mother & host at Cana implored too soon, in… — John Berryman Copy Share Image
