His malice was a pimple down his good
big face, with its sly eyes. I must be sorry
Mr Frost has left:
I like it so less I don’t understoodâ?”
he couldn’t hear or see wellâ?”all we siftâ?”
but this is a bad story.
He had fine stories and was another man
in private; difficult, always. Courteous,
on the whole, in private.
He apologize to Henry, off & on,
for two blue slanders; which was good of him.
I don’t know how he made it.
Quickly, off stage with all but kindness, now.
I can’t say what I have in mind. Bless Frost,
any odd god around.
Gentle his shift, I decussate & command,
stoic deity. For a while here we possessed
an unusual man.
(John Berryman)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, God Poems, Mind Poems, Faces Poems, Compassion PoemsBased on Keywords: odd, frost, stage, couldn, story, quickly, sorry, possessed, stories, difficult, command