Poetry Slam Tuesdays: The Hottest One for Years

Aren't the dream songs just ... dreamy? I don't think you need to know about Henry or Mr. Bones to pick up on the dreaminess. Or maybe that's why I like them so much. Cause I don't actually get it at all.

"What wonders is she sitting on, over there? The restaurant buzzes. She might as well be on Mars."

I guess Berryman didn't get the memo. Women are like, from Venus. "Where did it all go wrong?"

Anyway:

Dream Song 4

Filling her compact & delicious body
with chicken páprika, she glanced at me
twice.
Fainting with interest, I hungered back
and only the fact of her husband & four other people
kept me from springing on her

or falling at her little feet and crying
'You are the hottest one for years of night
Henry's dazed eyes
have enjoyed, Brilliance.' I advanced upon
(despairing) my spumoni.--Sir Bones: is stuffed,
de world, wif feeding girls.

--Black hair, complexion Latin, jewelled eyes
downcast . . . The slob beside her feasts . . . What wonders is
she sitting on, over there?
The restaurant buzzes. She might as well be on Mars.
Where did it all go wrong? There ought to be a law against Henry.
--Mr. Bones: there is.

Poetry Slam Tuesdays: The Dreamiest of the Dream Songs

Dream Song 171

Go, ill-sped book, and whisper to her or 
storm out the message for her only ear 
that she is beautiful. 
Mention sunsets, be not silent of her eyes 
and mouth and other prospects, praise her size, 
say her figure is full. 

Say her small figure is heavenly & full, 
so as stunned Henry yatters like a fool 
& maketh little sense. 
Say she is soft in speech, stately in walking, 
modest at gatherings, and in every thing 
declare her excellence. 

And forget not, when the rest is wholly done 
and all of her splendors opened, one by one, 
to add that she likes Henry, 
for reasons unknown, and fate has bound them fast 
one to another in linkages that last 
and that are fair to see.

 -John Berryman

Thanks, C, for bringing this into my life. I started rereading it this morning after Mufasa spilled water all over my night stand in a cruel attempt to destroy the dream songs (and the other six books stacked there)! She's conniving, that cat.