by A. R. Ammons
sir, metered out?
the poet implores you to
get the hell off his back:
2410he will have
room
and a universe
to cry all day
the trampling of a weed:
2415go you the hell all on
back home: or stand off:
the music descends: look
up: there, now: there:
thank you, gentlemen:
2420and goodnight: it’s past
twelve and a
cold, freezing, windy
night:
%
15 DEC:
2425my poem went for a ride
today: I
backgutted it all
the way out
of the typewriter,
2430rewinding the roll:
stuck it in a paper
bag, then in the
glove compartment:
we all went to York, Pa.
2435to visit relatives:
I was reluctant to give
the day to myself & not
to the poem: but
the thing I couldn’t
2440do was separate us:
what if the house caught
fire while I was gone?
unh, unh: took it with me:
but mightn’t you have had
2445a car accident & ruined it?
mebbe but bebbe I’d
have ruined myself, too,
past caring about
poems,
2450mebbe:
took it with me: & have
returned (10 pm) &
reinserted & rewound:
I’m beat: drove
2455there & back & drove
a lot while there,
looking the city over,
the place my nephew
goes to school & where his
2460daddy works & shopping
centers, bowling alleys
& the ritzy section,
mansions way up
on the highest ridge—
2465overlooking:
the Top:
but it’s late:
excuse me, I’m tired: &
the cold drops—
2470they say to 5 or 10 above
tonight:
16 DEC:
first I heard
on the radio this morning
it was
247519 degrees:
but it’s bright sunny
and
believe it or not
there’re a couple of
2480flies
out on the porch, still
okay, doing fine
on “areas of warmth”:
but doing I don’t
2485know what at night:
a one-legged starling
was hopping around on the
porch when I just drove
up: and a catbird was
2490sitting
in the green-withered
rhododendron bush,
warming:
the joy of the crest,
2495riding & writing
in the going making
single stream: but I
can’t always live
there:
2500obstructions:
frustrations:
frazzling reality,
many-fingered &
dividing: what
2505self-acceptance, strength
of self, is
needed to meet it:
the gain’s in doing
little things: but
2510wherever you turn, someone
beat you there, is
in your way
obstructing you: some
idiot pulls out
2515in front of you,
without notice or
hesitation: someone pops
on his brakes: another
drags along:
2520somebody behind you blasts
his horn:
here, the obstructions
continue: the flow
lost, the crest gone: the
2525self not
pulling all together:
if things were easy
they’d be valueless:
wd they?
2530this is easiest when it
rides highest
& when it’s difficult
nothing can be done:
this fantasy: with
2535faith, unity, I
may turn it into a
pleasing reality:
wdn’t that be a blast:
wdn’t that break up
2540pragmatism:
(there you go
picturing yrself
worldwide again: easy,
boy: you
2545dooky like
everybody else)
it’s a loss of love:
I love all those
people (provided
2550they get out of my way)
hostility, thrust, that
drives one to this
thrashing of keys:
violence of vowels:
2555prisons of hostility,
gleaming as Manhattan
plate-glass towers:
solitude—so as not to
strike!
2560death’s
the maximum-security
prison: take a lot of
practice
to spring
2565that one: too secure:
turn our faces into
cold wind &
risk’s hard fact:
I feel like running:
2570& wd:
except there’s no
place to
run to: prisons to let
ourselves into
2575and out of:
what kind of mess
am I in today?
Muse, if you
want anything out
2580of me, you’ll have
to do a little
fixing-up:
this tape is too damn long:
I’ll tell you that:
2585terrible task:
then you go off & whore
around:
10 pm: we’ve just
finished addressing the
2590Xmas cards (policy:
send one to people
who sent one last year—
with some eliminations
(somebody has to make the
2595first move:) some additions:)
stars, angels, snow,
donkeys, trees, bells, arches,
windows, children: not
a bad context, though
2600reality
has a
way
of
wandering around the edges
2605of
it: I’d take a liking to
it if it wasn’t for
still having the stamps
to lick:
2610next yr I intend to send
a card to everybody
I know (I think)—
that’s not a bad context &
it says a lot about peace:
2615just went to Tony’s to
get a pack of cigs: it’s
colder than you
can imagine: must be
around 8: yipe!
17 DEC:
2620Sisyphus
struggling
with his
immortal
rock: some say this
2625is all man’s work,
crumbling castles, decay-
ing systems—absurdity:
but Sisyphus
knew each upward strain
2630& groan
soaked into the hard
potential of the stone,
that the sweat burned in
deep:
2635mountaintop, he released
weeks of energy
and saw—each time as
miracle—the
gravity-bound, difficult
2640rock
leap & lollop
like a deer,
feather-light, bird
awing: & he let out a
2645cry of joy that
rang through the
valley
mixing with stone-thunder:
the people—who’d
2650forgotten Sisyphus & his
breadless labor—screaming
jumped out of bed
& ran
out into the night:
2655Sisyphus took
light, jerky
steps downward
and resolving came,
luminous with explanation,
2660among the people:
they cheered &
thanked the gods
for the return of reason
& Sisyphus, the
2665groans all vented from
his rock
turned to the empty, easy
thing & rolled it like
a playball over the even
2670ground
up to the bottom of the
rise:
the people, smiling, went
to bed & through
2675the black morning hours
the rock,
breaking branches, began
to take on
again its difficult majesty:
2680¢¢
got
to leave Sissy Fuss
& go
pick out the Christmas
2685tree:
keep it cold in
garage: so it don’t
turn stiff & sheddy:
cut’em around October:
2690why
they cut’em so soon?
transportation:
it’s merchandising:
dealerships to work out:
2695farmers to contact: red
tape: whatd’ya
think?
they can just appear up
down here
2700fresh
two days before Christmas?
sheez!
some kindova nut:
grows on a tree,
2705a tree is part of
Nature,
Nature is beautiful &
thank you for the
compliment:
2710why don’t we go cut
our own?
cut our own!
where?
but we don’t own that land:
2715whatd’ya mean they don’t
care?
I know they’re beautiful:
grow right up in the
fallow land,
2720taper up nice, standing
out half-deep in
Indian grass, right
out in the middle of
the field:
2725when I was a boy:
or a bit more:
used to go get the
Christmas tree: lived
way out in the country
2730down in Carolina
in a time
& place
that seem so long ago,
everything different
2735now & sort of loused up:
an only boy & I would get
the axe &
follow the paths over the
fields & back of the
2740fields come into
hill-woods (hickory,
lush-leaved tree,
covering the ground each
year with
2745thick-shelled nuts)
& then into the swamp woods:
for
in the South
cedar grows deep
2750in the damp swampwoods
and then it’s sparse, so
sparse, where I come from:
& walk & walk, roaming and
nearly lost:
2755there’s one! already
topped: and found
another, shaggy, topped
years ago: & finally
finally finding one
2760bushy, full, &
pointed:
climbing and with that
awkward, ungrounded swing,
hacking away at the
2765trunk:
dragging it home, the limbs
obliging, flowing with
the motion:
we had no electricity but
2770we had pinecones &
colored paper &
some tinsel: it
was beautiful enough:
it was very lovely:
2775& it’s lost:
though there’s no
returning (and
shd be little desire
to return) still we shd
2780keep the threads looped
tightly with past years,
the fabric
taut
& continuous, past growing
2785into present so present
can point to future:
where am I now?
in a house with
no acres around it—don’t
2790even own an axe—
plenty of electricity but
no hickory nuts,
no rummaging the swamp
for the scented green,
2795the green-green, moist,
growing right on the tree:
now, a tree from
somewhere—maybe Vermont—
got by handing over
2800two or three green
pcs of paper:
$$$$$$$$$$$$$
do you hear me, Sisyphus,
durn you? do you hear me
2805groan:
like:
wow:
2:29 pm: (still sunny)
I better get out of
2810here & go
get that tree:
the good ones are
gonna be gone:
&
2815Snow
The little tree
on the hill
could surely be
bright & still
2820except the wind
round the hill
has a mind
that isn’t still
&
2825I decided not to get the
tree:
instead, I lay down on the
couch
& nearly fell asleep
2830& then sat up
& then
the little tree
came to me:
4:30 pm: the sun’s sunk:
2835we approach the shallows
of the year: short
days with the sun
gone south:
the light will
2840lengthen, break through
plate-glass ice,
stir roots & bees:
in a maze prison, you’re
free: every wall
2845opens:
you move around with
trial:
you know there’s a way
out:
2850the mind turns & fails:
and turns & fails: loss
of bearings & origins:
the maze shrinks into the
head, paralyzing: unwind
2855it, un-
wind it!
speaking of memries,
I member
this little spring
2860that came mouthing out
of sand at the foot
of the pasture:
I dammed up a good-sized
pond around it,
2865black mud walls
maybe 6" high:
held the flow,
gave it structure:
still the little mouth
2870kept talking
in the clear pond: clear!
you could read the grain
in the bottom mud,
kind of fluffy:
2875frogs laid eggs in it:
messy eggs
with little black eye
s:
beautiful & sticky:
they say the night will be
2880cold
with increasing cloudiness:
probably: snow tomorrow:
flurries:
18 DEC:
today
2885broke as if under water:
horizons & dome diffused
with completely
increased cloudiness:
a set of four thumb-size
2890birds
flicker in the sumac
grove:
the sun’s a silver bead
behind the clouds:
2895flurries expected:
Christmas trees come
stout, stubby, tall, lean,
bunchy, lopsided, scrawny—
besides the kinds—cedar,
2900pine, fir:
my wife & I diverge
at scrawny-bunchy: she
likes bunchy ones (even a
little stubby): I like
2905scrawny, open trees:
like to get inside the
tree
and hang it full of
ornaments:
2910I
don’t
like
those bunchy ones that
thrust you out, accept only
2915peripheral trim:
chacun à chacun, tho: that
is, the devil with it:
husband & wife hold
each other off
2920by digging
chasms of difference:
then they have a hell of a
time bridging them: it’s
important that a male be
2925different from a female—
the greater the difference
the higher the charge—
but if the
difference gets too wide,
2930the two halves
drift off into alienations:
ever noticed how
dark it is
inside those bunchy trees?
2935they hover-in the
dark, withholding, secret,
mysterious:
what? have a system of
darkness
2940standing in the living
room, recalcitrant,