Dream Song 107: Three ‘coons come at his garbage. He be cross (John Berryman Poems)
Three 'coons come at his garbage. He be cross,I figuring porcupine & took Sir pokerunbarring Mr door,& then screen door. ...
Three 'coons come at his garbage. He be cross,I figuring porcupine & took Sir pokerunbarring Mr door,& then screen door. ...
Shh! on a twine hung from disastered treesHenry is swinging his daughter. They seem drunk.Over across them look out,tranquil, the ...
In a state of chortle sin—once he reflected,swilling tomato juice—live I, and didmore than my thirstier years.To Hell then will ...
I heard, could be, a Hey there from the wing,and I went on: Miss Bessie soundin goodthat one, that night ...
Maskt as honours, insult like behavingmissiles homes. I bow, & grunt 'Thank you.I'm glad you could comeso late.' All loves ...
Maskt as honours, insult like behaving missiles homes. I bow, & grunt 'Thank you. I'm glad you could come so ...
In a state of chortle sinâ?"once he reflected, swilling tomato juiceâ?"live I, and did more than my thirstier years. To ...
I heard, could be, a Hey there from the wing, and I went on: Miss Bessie soundin good that one, ...
Three 'coons come at his garbage. He be cross, I figuring porcupine & took Sir poker unbarring Mr door, & ...
Shh! on a twine hung from disastered trees Henry is swinging his daughter. They seem drunk. Over across them look ...
Turning it over, considering, like a madman Henry put forth a book. No harm resulted from this. Neither the menstruating ...
There is an eye, there was a slit. Nights walk, and confer on him fear. The strangler tree, the dancing ...
The three men coming down the winter hill In brown, with tall poles and a pack of hounds At heel, ...
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