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The Collected Poems of Ted Berrigan

Page 27

by Alice Notley

It Damn Well Will Do.

  Autumn

  Autumn is fun

  for these kids

  who love me

  But comes a Voyeur

  W/his champagne

  to this tub

  It shrinks

  disappears.

  The pills aren’t working.

  London

  Messy red heart

  put on black shirt

  tight brown cords & slush-proof boots

  stand up & look at it

  Senior Service, pretty expensive

  Not for me, tho, I’m an American

  “There are no second acts in American life.”

  cf. F. Scott Fitzgerald

  & money is just a way for people to talk, anyway

  For example Jim Dine talking, to me

  That’s one I just finished. It’s a list

  of names of everyone in my life

  the past ten years. What a great idea,

  I think. It’s so simple. You just get an idea

  & then you do it. Anxiety thickens the plot.

  London Air

  TO BOB CREELEY

  1.

  My heart Your heart

  That’s the American Way

  & so,

  FUCK OR WAIK!

  It’s the American Way

  Messy Red Heart (American)

  Put on

  black shirt, tight

  brown cords & bright

  blue socks

  Under slush-proof boots!

  Is that cow-hide?

  I don’t know Yes it is that

  It is That.

  Take a good look, that is I

  mean

  have a good look

  LIGHT UP (a Senior Service)

  &

  turning around

  The turning point is turning around.

  Now, that may seem wasteful to you

  but not to me being American

  That’s the American bent

  (sprinting with a limp)

  It beginning having reached part 3.

  Part 3.

  Into the Second Act in American Life:

  cf. F. Scott Fitzgerald

  “There are no

  I go in & Second Acts in

  sit down American Life.”

  at this desk

  and write

  dog sees GOD

  in the mirror

  c/o Jim Dine

  60 Chester Square

  London SW One

  It’s 5 units sunlight, 5 units

  Cincinnati

  One plus Zero

  equals One

  That’s it you

  Now you’re talking!

  & so, let me read to you this list

  of the ten greatest books of all time:

  Here they are

  THE TEN GREATEST BOOKS OF ALL TIME

  1. Now in June by Lao-Tree

  2. Sore Foot by Larry Fagin

  3. Sleep & Dreams by Gay Luce & Julius Segal

  4. Rape by Marcus van Heller

  5. Out of The Dead City by Chip Delaney

  6. Moth by James M. Cain

  7. Letters for Origin (Proofs) by Charles Olson

  8. Classics Revisited by Kenneth Rexroth

  9. Pleasures of a Chinese Courtesan by Jonathan Payne

  10. Letters to Georgian Friends by Boris Pasternak

  10. Horse Under Water by Len Deighton

  10. Camp Concentration by Tom Disch

  &

  breathing easier now

  10. The Quotations of Chairman Mao.

  In Bed with Joan & Alex

  In the morning

  Very bright the

  not yellow

  light

  tough creamy air

  it softens lightly

  when you give

  THE LOOK OF LOVE

  having a good look

  knowing / green

  interesting manners

  with

  blackjack nuances.

  Can you dig it (doing that) in the Michigan morning?

  light

  taking your glasses off

  (clothes already off)

  yellow pants

  I should say gold

  but gold isn’t really yellow

  is it?

  so I don’t

  Joan Fagin’s brown shirt’s resting now

  on the chair

  brown

  transparent, blue

  buttons . . .

  Some pop off

  so do we all some time.

  Joan, with you,

  “I do.”

  &

  Loving you

  doesn’t really have to “do”

  anything

  but I do.

  & doing ( . . . “anything” . . . ) turns you on, too.

  doing a few

  swirls

  &

  spinning

  moving easily

  & so firm

  A just plain terrific face

  two eyes opening wide

  with delight

  that’s “doing it all” for me.

  It’s a little scary it, & you, too

  white & not so

  blue

  now a slow pink flush

  across the white rhythm

  & the blue . . .

  Coming together

  or maybe not coming at all

  or coming

  at leisure

  “Digging one’s own natural

  savagery”

  as the man says

  is all there is

  to do.

  To eat ourselves

  alive

  & dig it.

  & having looked into “that”, having had “it”

  still having it

  Now,

  to look at it,

  looking at it whenever

  The right light appears

  which is practically

  anytime & especially,

  “In the morning.”

  2.

  Looking at a cottage in the country,

  Maine,

  My main man’s desire shines through

  “that’s tough!” you might say

  but it’s civilized.

  It’s terse, but fluid. (It’s

  a hard-nosed kike rap).

  Round & round & round we go

  There are trees, around

  & green grass around

  to stretch out

  lay around

  on.

  Above blue sky

  as clean as paint is

  clear (thick & creamy

  light.)

  Now, that’s what I call Radiance.

  All of it,

  & you, really here

  plus, friendly

  shadows

  talk

  “do anything you want to.”

  & so we did, all of it.

  See that?

  I’d like you to look at

  & see it.

  It’s beautiful! moving beautifully

  in the morning

  &

  you can turn it on you’re here

  anytime & it’s here

  CODA: (to Alex Katz)

  Being civilized about such things

  is a great pleasure!

  Wasn’t it, Alex?

  It’s just like Real Life

  (after the movies.)

  You put it together

  with your knife

  punching it

  into the sun

  shining

  Out of sight!

  3.

  Now, resting on the President’s chair, the center

  head inside its hair, on the grass, the white

  house right over there

  a Chesterfield King

  & there’s a light!

  Clean White Smoke Wind Clear Air

  me up here & you,

  you up across & over there.

  Be
tween us, The United States

  of Air

  & Joan

  still flying,

  on this plane:

  It’s taking Joan everywhere

  she feels like going

  & so she does

  & so do we all

  & so we do,

  thanks to you,

  light radiance air

  Alex, Joan, my friends,

  you were there.

  Ode to Medicine

  AFTER LEWIS WARSH

  Going up, slowly, I, slowly

  Flashing insane (exciting) changes across each lady eye

  Begin to soar. First the quiet

  (trees) as Lewis and I lope none-too-gently by

  Rush of light hitting walk, my

  Tonight. The Pep Rally inflames the green sky

  Feet crushing light, my walk lighting up

  Forget them. They (I) shall return. It’s cool

  October’s thickness (night). It needs girls

  As well as well. I love these girls, & so

  To cut through the dense talk growing light

  I’m arriving soon. I am, & they laugh wisely

  Along the diagonal: our sleep is but a birth

  & a remembering, so forget all that came before.

  There are girls laughing because they thought

  Talk to him, he’s high in New York somewhere

  Sometimes, when I think about where I am

  Medicine gets me high. I

  Do a few spins & laugh it off. Cough

  Sweet Vocations

  After the first death there is plenty

  Of Other but it’s true

  There is no other, too. One staggers

  Weakly between the two. What fun is that?

  It’s no fun, that’s what. After the first

  Sniff, you notice the typewriter’s been sharpened; you

  Did it, so;

  a, s, d, f, space . . . semi, l, k, j, space

  Is it up & happy, this trip, like Merriweather Lewis

  Whose California rides above the blue? or

  Is it a down trip (John Keats)? I do love you:

  “Down for you is up” when your head gets turned around

  You look out the mirror at the self, & you preen,

  You giggle because that it’s so unlike you.

  Here I Live

  So sleeping & waking

  every day

  up

  I live here I,

  the great

  mumbling

  one

  two three four

  Laid out, voices living & dead

  hovering

  between

  heart &

  comfort.

  up

  now

  taking chances

  with silence. More & more

  waiting

  for day . . . light

  over the house.

  He is counting: one two

  three four

  When we rise

  the jungle

  Moves What that means

  grenades come closer white

  lightning

  clears the range

  in the morning

  paper hangs on nothing

  Nerve

  That makes some human cry

  float

  like sunlight

  But every night I sleep

  going

  to dawn like light.

  Here I live my heart

  my family

  assemble.

  Three counts.

  Sun

  clear

  Time

  my war

  God

  did it start.

  One Two Three Four.

  One

  Two

  Three

  &

  Sleep.

  To Anne

  I love you much

  as one can

  love anybody

  baby,

  but

  riding high a man is

  tough as it comes,

  It’s not brutal.

  It’s a song.

  For Love.

  Of You.

  Going to Chicago

  FOR DON HALL

  Leaving first

  On my way,

  “Ave Atque Valium”

  20 mgs.

  & coffee

  Thanks to the Air Hostess

  dark eyes dark hair

  red lips

  full

  Red Nose in the air

  A passing thought to John Sinclair

  à la bas

  Right On, John

  We see you down there

  from here

  up in the air

  it’s the same air

  as one breathes in

  &

  one breathes out . . .

  “Down to you is Up”

  . . . in between

  here and there

  &

  here.

  2.

  The Prison Poems of Ho Chi Minh

  Lunch Poems / In Memory Of My Feelings

  Meditations in An Emergency

  Advertisements For Myself

  The Sweet Science

  The Press

  An American Dream

  Mollie &

  Other War Stories

  Joe Liebling, Frank & Norman

  ride with us

  here.

  3.

  Change is in my pocket:

  A John Kennedy American

  half-dollar:

  heads: Philip Whalen

  tails: John Ashbery

  (that’s an old-master story)

  flip it

  it’s in the air

  The game is underway:

  “Winning is my philosophy”

  “Preparedness is the

  only means toward Victory”

  “Not Somehow

  but

  Triumphantly”

  (that’s the motto of The Salvation Army)

  “There’s a new day coming”

  & if it’s a nice day, we win

  & if it’s a stormy day,

  can you dig it?

  flying, under the weather

  dig it

  Fly Over

  Fly Straight through

  Fly big Baby, Fly!!

  To The 2nd City.

  Bye-bye.

  How We Live in the Jungle

  I am asleep

  next to The Hulk

  warm behind,

  inside,

  all around me

  Oranges,

  soft purples,

  greens, blue

  Underneath & above

  wooden planks

  furniture,

  Sky,

  big sky,

  all around the tree.

  It’s a house-tree.

  You feel at home here

  in the nut-bush.

  First asleep

  next going into heat

  a stinging shower

  & then,

  cooled, with a buzz on.

  The Hulk is breathing easily now

  as her graceful form

  moves purposefully into everyday life.

  The Hulk

  often sleeps

  while I’m awake

  & vice-versa

  & vice-versa.

  No matter.

  We live together in the jungle.

  April in the Morning, with Anne

  Rain falling through the blue

  across the street

  near to me, & close to you; &

  that’s where I’ll be today

  walking St. Mark’s Place toward Grand Central

  that place

  the only place we ever get together, me & you

  Soot-

  covered parti-colored trains come & go

  out & in, the heart leaps

  to its daily declarations

  of love & death (poetry), beating<
br />
  the ordinary day’s traffic to somewhere,

  beating

  my heart’s morning yearning for nowhere,

  with windows,

  upon which the early morning rain,

  joining in

  joins you to me, simply flowing,

  now singing, now

  saying, “hello!”, now hoping

  this trip prove true

  &

  now, in clean air, cleanly breathing, sounds

  Train Ride

  Somebody knows everything so

  It doesn’t make any difference,

  what you do

  So, do anything you want,

  it’s all right

  You can do it. Just do it,

  right?

  Biddy Basketball

  The guards tense, the centers jump

  The fur flies! A Jickey laughs

  It’s sloppy going, tho, Careless Love

  So to speak: can’t see it; can’t believe it

  Can’t read it even: not together

  A bit busy: bemused by the weather

  How it simply takes place, & had character

  A clear & an open face, clearly true

  To conditions as they do exist; & so

  Now a day is unpleasant because no fun

  Tho it does keep going on: that’s how it goes

  It’s draggy, it’s torture, it’s tedious

  Right from the very beginning, it loses you

  And as we discover later reading The Daily News

  When it’s all over, “Both Sides Lose.”

  The Simple Pleasures of Buffalo

  It’s impossible to take a bath in this house

  because I am the house-guest & the bath-room

  is of the house. It’s difficult not to lie, constantly

  on the beds. It is not difficult to read, “The Groupie”

  “Thongs”, “Ball Four”, “The Jocks”, & “Teen-Age Sex.”

  It’s quite difficult to jack off: God knows why. But,

  It is possible to fuck a lot; lying, sitting, kneeling, standing

  or simply thrashing about the beds. If you don’t believe me,

  just ask ______. To continue: in this house

  it’s a simple matter to swallow the cough syrup (codeine): to swallow

  the capsules (pills) or even the spansules is even simpler:

  It is not quite so simple to stick the needle into the vein.

  This requires a certain amount of practice; and Witch Hazel

  Can be helpful, to cover the tracks & in healing the sore arms.

  Perhaps the simplest, most rewarding element this

  quietly insane house affords you is time, time to be reading

  for example, on your own, this terrific book,

  “The Good Spirit,” poems by Citizen Andrei Codrescu.

  Black & White Magic

 

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