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The Complete Poems of A R Ammons, Volume 1

Page 35

by A. R. Ammons


  mind idles like a pyramid: oxides

  “under proper atmospheric conditions” become

  acids and rain a fine broad bleaching:

  man’s a plant parasite: so I drop

  10down to the exchange, CO2↔O2, and

  find dread there, just dread: too

  much care fuddles me dull:

  beef hormones bloom monstrous

  with tenderness:

  15but I won’t take up the scaring cause

  and can’t think of a thing to uphold.

  1969 (1970)

  Tooling Up

  I cut a new thread on it this morning,

  smeared a little dab (a small glob) of

  pipedope around (for perfect action,

  should the opportunity arise or

  5withdrawal prove premature) and

  stuck myself out again: a

  formal—possibly too formal—stance,

  a willed extension, as if in

  expectation of pain:

  10well but I’ve done my share: my

  mind’s at ease: I’m

  obviously out, my

  intentions are obviously firm.

  1968

  Father

  I dreamed my father flicked

  in his grave

  then like a fish in water

  wrestled with the ground

  5surfaced and wandered:

  I could not find him

  through woods, roots, mires

  in his bad shape: and

  when I found him he was

  10dead again and had to be

  re-entered in the ground:

  I said to my mother I still

  have you: but out of the

  dream I know she died

  15sixteen years before his

  first death:

  as I become a child again

  a longing that will go away

  only with my going grows.

  1968 (1969)

  Sumerian

  I have grown a marsh dweller

  subject to floods and high winds,

  drinking brackish water on long hunts,

  brushing gnat smoke

  5from clumps of reeds, have known

  the vicissitudes of silt, of

  shifting channels flush

  by dark upland rains, of mounds

  rising no more firmly than

  10monsters from the water:

  on the southern salty

  banks near the gulf the ducks

  and flying vees of geese have

  shunned me: the bouncing spider’s net,

  15strung wet over narrows of reeds, has

  broken terror dawn cold across my face:

  rising with a handful of broken shells

  from sifted underwater mud

  I have come to know how high

  20the platform is, beyond approach,

  of serenity and blue temple tiles.

  1955 (1956)

  Hippie Hop

  I have no program for

  saving this world or scuttling

  the next: I know no political,

  sexual, racial cures: I make

  5analogies, my bucketful of

  flowers: I give flowers to people

  of all policies, sexes, and races

  including the vicious, the

  uncertain, and the white.

  1968

  Garden

  I have sung

  delphiniums

  seasonless, seedless

  out of debris,

  5stone-white asters

  out of shale:

  I’ve made it this far

  turning between made sights

  and recognitions:

  10and now

  if everything becomes,

  as it could,

  naturalized, returned,

  I may pick hyacinths

  15here real and tender

  in the ruse.

  1965

  Hymn IV

  I hold you responsible for

  every womb’s neck

  clogged with

  killing growth

  5and for ducks on the bay

  barking like hounds

  all night

  their wintering dreams

  responsible for every action of

  10the brain that gives

  me mind

  and for all light

  for the fishroe’s

  birth spawning forage to

  15night eels

  nosing the tidal banks

  I keep you existent at least as

  a ghost crab

  moon-extinguished his crisp

  20walk silenced on broken shells

  answering at least as

  the squiggling copepod

  for the birthing and aging of

  life’s all-clustered grief

  25You have enriched us with

  fear and contrariety

  providing the searcher

  confusion for his search

  teaching by your snickering

  30wisdom an autonomy

  for man

  Bear it all

  and keep me from my enemies’

  wafered concision and zeal

  35I give you back to yourself

  whole and undivided

  1957 (1958)

  The Mark

  I hope I’m

  not right

  where frost

  strikes the

  5butterfly:

  in the back

  between

  the wings.

  1965

  Loft

  I live in a bodiless loft,

  no joists, beams,

  or walls:

  I huddle high,

  5arch my back against the stiff

  fact of coming down:

  my house admits to being

  only above the level of most

  perception:

  10I shudder and make do:

  I don’t look down.

  1965

  Poetics

  I look for the way

  things will turn

  out spiralling from a center,

  the shape

  5things will take to come forth in

  so that the birch tree white

  touched black at branches

  will stand out

  wind-glittering

  10totally its apparent self:

  I look for the forms

  things want to come as

  from what black wells of possibility,

  how a thing will

  15unfold:

  not the shape on paper—though

  that, too—but the

  uninterfering means on paper:

  not so much looking for the shape

  20as being available

  to any shape that may be

  summoning itself

  through me

  from the self not mine but ours.

  1965 (1969)

  Working with Tools

  I make a simple assertion

  like a nice piece of stone

  and you

  alert to presence and entrance

  5man your pick and hammer

  and by chip and deflection

  distract simplicity

  and cut my assertion

  back to mangles, little heaps:

  10well, baby, that’s the way

  you get along: it’s all right,

  I understand such

  ways of being afraid:

  sometimes you want my come-on

  15hard, something to

  take in and be around:

  sometimes you want

  a vaguer touch: I understand

  and won’t give assertion up.

  1968 (1968)

  Doubling the Nerve

  In the bleak time look for no cooperation

  from the birds: crows show up, black blatant

  clarions in the gawky branches, to dominate
/>   the rain’s dark: grackles on sprung hinges

  5grate from tree to tree, around:

  remember

  the redbird then in the floral plum, the

  bluebird nesting in the apple bough:

  remember the white streak in the woodpecker’s

  10wings against shadblow:

  expect abundance

  to yield nothing to privation, no easing

  off by contrary song: the quiet world, so

  quiet, needs to cut its definitions wide

  15so snow can rinse across the hard lake.

  1969 (1969)

  Making

  In wingbar light

  the mockingbird

  takes the day into

  making

  5takes the clouds still

  shipping stars

  takes the spring trees’

  black small leaves

  and with staid motions

  10and many threads

  brings into

  view

  lightens

  and when morning

  15shows sings

  not a whit more beautifully

  because it has been dark.

  1968 (1969)

  Dominion

  I said

  Mr. Schafer

  did you get up to see the comet:

  and

  5he said

  Oh no

  let it go by, I don’t care:

  he has leaves to rake

  and the

  10plunger on his washing machine isn’t working right:

  he’s not amused

  by ten-million-mile tails

  or any million-mile-an-hour

  universal swoosh

  15or

  frozen gases

  lit by disturbances

  across our

  solar arcs

  1965 (1970)

  Round

  I sat down

  from too much

  spinning & spun

  the big spin’s calm:

  5I said

  this is

  like it is:

  bluebirds

  stripped my shoelaces

  10for nesting:

  pill bugs took the cool

  under my shoesoles

  and weeds, sprung up,

  made me their

  15windbreak:

  I said

  this is

  like it is

  and got up turning

  20out of the still into

  the spinning dance.

  1968 (1969)

  Tight

  I should have had my macadam

  driveway re-sealed this fall but

  saved a few bucks & let it

  go: now the rain pools

  5out there and the pools

  graduate toward each other

  with long necks of lonesome

  longing: but there’s a sort

  of idle rain, like today’s,

  10when the drops, large &

  sparse, pop huge bubbles

  that cruise around smooth

  uneventful country: I sat out

  there watching a couple of

  15hours from the garage and got

  rapturous trying to think why

  that particular show (not to

  mention how) ever got devised:

  it makes me wonder which way

  20the economy should be sent.

  1968 (1969)

  The Woodsroad

  I stop on

  the woodsroad,

  listen:

  I take myself in:

  5I let go the locust’s

  burr-squall, pointless,

  high in the pine:

  I turn all

  the clouds crossing

  10above me loose:

  I drop free of

  the fern’s sori:

  I zoom home through,

  as if hailstruck,

  15caterpillar-pocked

  whiteoak leaves:

  I take myself

  all in, let go &

  float free: then

  20break into

  clouds, white dots on

  dead stalks, robin

  mites: then, I’m here:

  I listen: call.

  1966 (1969)

  WCW

  I turned in

  by the bayshore

  and parked,

  the crosswind

  5hitting me hard

  side the head,

  the bay scrappy

  and working:

  what a

  10way to read

  Williams! till

  a woman came

  and turned

  her red dog loose

  15to sniff

  (and piss

  on)

  the dead horseshoe

  crabs.

  1962 (1969)

  Saying

  I went out on

  a rustling day

  and

  lectured the willow:

  5it nodded profoundly

  and held

  out many arms:

  I held my

  arms up and said things:

  10I spoke up:

  I turned into and

  from the wind:

  I looked all around:

  dusk, sunless,

  15starless, came:

  the wind

  fell and left us

  in the open

  still and bent.

  1965 (1968)

  Looking Over the Acreage

  I wonder what I should do now:

  probably

  I should wait

  for the onset or oncoming of a large order,

  5an aqueduct perhaps

  with an endless (theoretically) echo of arches

  but which a valley would

  break into individual aqueductal shape:

  or perhaps an abecedarian procedure

  10though there are some

  problems there

  (not everyone is agreed on

  what is what)

  or I could riffle through the zodiac:

  15then there are

  triads, pentads, dodecahedra,

  earth-water-air-fire,

  the loft

  from indivisibility to all-is-one

  20(which is where nothing is anything):

  descents are less usual

  having associations of undesirability

  (cities, societies are

  exclusive):

  25the great advantage of an overall arbitrary

  order is that one

  need not wait until he has earned an order

  but may go ahead with some serenity arch

  by arch

  30content if minor forms appear:

  one may do that:

  I don’t know what to do:

  no matter what I think I’m probably going to wind up

  in both wings of another balance:

  35fabulous, ex

  cit

  ing, over

  populated

  Hong Kong: yeah.

  1968

  Gain

  Last night my mind limped

  down the halls of its citadel,

  wavered by the lofty columns

  as if a loosened door had

  5let the wind try inside

  for what could go:

  dreamed of the fine pane-work

  of lofty windows it

  would not climb to again to see,

  10of curved attics aflight with

  angels it would not

  disturb again: felt the

  tenancy of its own house,

  shuffled to the great door and

  15looked out into its permanent dwelling.

  1965 (1969)

  Off

  Morning’s the woman time of day,

  light rising

  as in a small failure,

  the parting of fog

  5to cloud,

&n
bsp; the casual centerless thunder

  and the rain beginning

  so sporadic

  the eye can hardly weave the evidence

  10and then rain

  deep rain

  windless,

  the iris unshook from its beads,

  the firs like old old

  15men dripping their bottoms wet:

  I catch my breath

  I throw my clothes on

  I have to get out of the house and,

  out, my eyes’

  20concision shoots to kill.

  1968

  Treaties

  My great wars close:

  ahead, papers,

  signatures, the glimmering

  in shade of

  5leaf and raised wine:

  orchards, orchards,

  vineyards, fields:

  spiralling slow time while

  the medlar

  10smarts and glows and

  empty nests

  come out in the open:

  fall rain then stirs

  the black creek and

  15the small leaf slips in.

  1966 (1969)

  Convergence

  My sorrows he said

  begin so

  deep they join only

  at extreme, skinny height:

  5so he climbed

  and water fell

  smooth, chasms

  lifted into ripples

  and earth’s slow

  10curve

  merged, emerged:

  he stood capable

  poised

  on the peak of

 

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