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John Berryman - Dream Song 99: Temples

He does not live here but it is the god.
A priest tools in a top his motorbike.
You do not enter.
Us the landscape circles hard abroad,
sunned, stone. Like calls, too low, to like.

One submachine-gun cleared the Durga Temple.

It is very dark here in this groping forth

                        Gulp rhubarb for a guilty heart,
rhubarb for a free, if the world's sway
waives customs anywhere that far

Look on, without pure dismay.
Unable to account for itself.

The slave-girl folded her fan & turned on my air-condtioner.
The lemonade-machine made lemonade.
I made love, lolled,
my roundel lowered. I ache less. I purr.
—Mr Bones, you too advancer with your song,
muching of which are wrong.

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Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 2441 times | Comments and analysis of Dream Song 99: Temples by John Berryman Comments (0)

Dream Song 99: Temples - Comments and Information

Poet: John Berryman
Poem: 99. Dream Song 99: Temples
Volume: His Toy, His Dream, His Rest
Year: Published/Written in 1968
Poem of the Day: Feb 11 2009
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