The Complete Poems of A R Ammons, Volume 1

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The Complete Poems of A R Ammons, Volume 1 Page 38

by A. R. Ammons

to back country:

  hogweed’s hard yellow

  heads

  25crowd the ruts

  apart: there are

  wagon tracks

  and, splitting the weed,

  the hoofprints

  30of long-stepping, unshod mules:

  the hill people will

  not discern

  your wound:

  you will pitch hay,

  35wash your

  face in a staved bucket,

  soap your arms with

  chinaberry leaves,

  rinse

  40well-water clean:

  no: they will know

  you:

  keep on:

  the sun calls:

  45the moon has you:

  the ruts

  diminish you to distance:

  a hill puts you out.

  Christmas Eve

  When cold, I huddle up, foetal, cross

  arms:

  but in summer, sprawl:

  secret is plain old

  5surface area,

  decreased in winter, retaining: summer no

  limbs touching—

  radiating:

  everything is physical:

  10chemistry is physical:

  electrical noumenal mind

  is:

  (I declare!)

  put up Christmas tree this afternoon:

  15fell

  asleep in big chair: woke up at

  3:12 and it

  was snowing outside, was white!

  Christmas Eve tonight: Joseph

  20is looking for a place:

  Mary smiles but

  her blood is singing:

  she will have to lie down:

  hay is warm:

  25some inns keep only

  the public room warm: Mary

  is thinking, Nice time

  to lie down,

  good time to be brought down by this necessity:

  30I better get busy

  and put the lights on—can’t find

  extension cord:

  Phyllis will be home, will say, The

  tree doesn’t have any lights!

  35I have tiny winking lights, too:

  she will like

  them: she went to see her mother:

  my mother is dead: she is

  deep in the ground, changed: if she

  40rises, dust will blow all over the place and

  she will stand there shining,

  smiling: she will feel good:

  she will want

  to go home and fix supper: first she

  45will hug me:

  an actual womb bore Christ,

  divinity into the world:

  I hope there are births to lie down to

  back

  50to divinity,

  since we all must die away from here:

  I better look for the cord:

  we’re going to

  the Plaza for dinner:

  55tonight, a buffet: tomorrow there, we’ll

  have a big Christmas

  dinner:

  before I fell asleep, somebody

  phoned, a Mr. Powell: he asked

  60if I wanted to

  sell my land

  in Mays Landing: I don’t know:

  I have several pieces, wonder

  if he wants them all,

  65wonder what I ought to quote:

  earth: so many acres of earth:

  own:

  how we own who are owned! well,

  anyway, he won’t care

  70about that—said he would

  call back Monday: I will

  tell him something then:

  it’s nearly Christmas, now:

  they are all going into the city:

  75some have sent ahead for reservations:

  the inns are filling up:

  Christ was born

  in a hay barn among the warm cows and the

  donkeys kneeling down: with Him divinity

  80swept into the flesh

  and made it real.

  1960 (1970)

  Communication

  All day—I’m

  surprised—the

  orange tree, windy, sunny,

  has said nothing:

  5nevertheless,

  four ripe oranges have

  dropped and several

  dozen

  given up a ghost of green.

  1964 (1965)

  The Whole Half

  In his head

  the lost woman,

  shriveled,

  dry, vestigial,

  5cried

  distantly

  as if from

  under leaves

  or from roots

  10through the mouths

  of old stumps—

  cry part his

  at her loss,

  uneasiness

  15of something

  forgotten

  that was nearly pain:

  but the man-oak

  rising has grown

  20occupying

  a full place

  and finding its whole

  dome man

  looks outward

  25across the

  stream

  to the calling

  siren tree,

  whole—woman.

  1964

  Bay Bank

  The redwing blackbird

  lighting

  dips deep the

  windy bayridge

  5reed but

  sends a song up

  reed and wind rise to.

  1964

  Money

  Five years ago I planted a buttonwood slip:

  three years ago I had to fit myself

  into its shade, a leg or arm

  left over in light:

  5now I approach casually and

  lost in shade more than

  twice my height and several times my width

  sit down in a chair

  and let the sun move through a long doze.

  1964

  Fall Creek

  It’s late September now

  and yesterday

  finally

  after two dry months

  5the rain came—so quiet,

  a crinkling

  on

  flagstone and leaf,

  but lasting:

  10this morning

  when I walked the bridge over

  the gorge

  that had been soundless

  water shot out over rock

  15and the rain roared

  1964 (1972)

  Utensil

  How does the pot pray:

  wash me, so I gleam?

  prays, crack my enamel:

  let the rust in

  1964

  The Fall

  I’ve come down a lot on the tree of terror:

  scorned I used

  to risk the thin bending lofts

  where shaking with stars

  5I fell asleep, rattled, wakened, and wept:

  I’ve come down a lot from the skinny

  cone-locked lofts

  past the grabbers and tearers

  past the shooing limbs, past the fang-set

  10eyes

  and hate-shocked mouths:

  I rest on sturdier branches and sometimes

  risk a word

  that shakes the tree with laughter or reproof—

  15am prized for that:

  I’ve come down into the

  odor and warmth

  of others: so much so that I

  sometimes hit the ground and go

  20off a ways looking, trying out:

  if startled, I break for the tree,

  shinny up to safety, the eyes and

  mouths large and hands working to my concern:

  my risks and escapes are occasionally

  25spoken of, approved: I’ve come down a lot.

  1965 (1972)

  April

&
nbsp; Midafternoon

  I come

  home to the apartment

  and find the janitor

  5looking up and

  policeman looking

  up (said he’d

  go call Bill—has

  a ladder)

  10and all the old

  white-haired women

  out looking up

  at

  the raccoon asleep

  15on the chimney top:

  went up the ivy

  during the night and

  dazed still with

  winter sleep can’t

  20tell whether

  to come down

  or take

  up sleep again—

  what a blossom!

  1965

  Lion::Mouse

  Cutting off the

  offending parts

  plucking out

  they were so many I

  5tore the woods

  up

  with my roaring losses

  but kept on

  dividing, snipping away,

  10uprooting and

  casting out

  till

  I scampered

  under

  15a leaf

  and considering

  my remnant self

  squeaked

  a keen squeak of joy

  1966

  Breaks

  From silence to silence:

  as a woods stream

  over a

  rock holding on

  5breaks into clusters of sound

  multiple and declaring as

  leaves, each one,

  filling

  the continuum between leaves,

  10I stand up,

  fracturing the equilibrium,

  hold on,

  my disturbing, skinny speech

  declaring

  15the cosmos.

  1966

  Heat

  The storm built till

  midnight

  then full to quietness

  broke:

  5wind

  struck across the surf

  hills and

  lightning, sheeting

  & snapping, cast

  10quick shadows, shook

  the rain loose:

  this morning

  the flowers on the steep bank

  look bedraggled

  15with blessings.

  1966

  Definitions

  The weed bends

  down and

  becomes a bird:

  the bird

  5flies white

  through winter

  storms: I

  have got my

  interest up in

  10leaf

  transparencies:

  where I am

  going, nothing

  of me will remain:

  15yet, I’ll

  drift through the

  voices of

  coyotes, drip

  into florets by

  20a mountain rock.

  1966 (1971)

  Path

  Leaves are eyes:

  light through

  translucences

  prints

  5visions that

  wander:

  I go for a walk and my image

  is noticed by the protoplasm:

  I wonder what visions

  10the birch-heart

  keeps dark:

  I know their cost!

  the heart shot

  thin that

  15pays winter hard:

  I am run so seen and thin:

  I see and shake

  1966 (1972)

  Mediation

  The grove kept us dry,

  subtracting from

  the shower much

  immediacy:

  5but then distracted us

  for hours, dropping

  snaps faint as the twigs

  of someone coming.

  1966

  Snow Whirl

  The snow turning

  crosshatches the air

  into

  tilted squares:

  5I sit and think

  where to dwell:

  surely, somewhere before,

  since snow

  began to fall,

  10the wind has

  managed to turn

  snow into

  squares of emptiness:

  dwell there

  15or with the flakes

  on one side of the motion

  squareless,

  dropping in an

  unreturning slant.

  1967

  Reward

  He climbed hard,

  ledge to ledge, rise,

  plateau,

  caught his breath,

  5looked around,

  conceived the distances:

  climbed on

  high, hard: and made the peak

  9from which the

  major portion of the view was

  descent.

  1967

  Timing

  The year’s run out

  to the tip

  blossom on the snapdragon

  stalk.

  1967 (1968)

  Trouble Making Trouble

  The hornet as if

  stung twists

  in the first cold,

  buzzes wings

  5that wrench him

  across the ground but

  take on no

  loft or

  direction:

  10scrapes with feelers

  his eyes to find

  clearance

  in the crazing

  dim of things, folds

  15to bite his tail (or

  sting his

  head) to life or

  death—hits the

  grill of a stormdrain

  20and drops.

  1967 (1968)

  Rome Zoo

  Subtract from that shower

  each leaf’s take

  and the oak’s

  shadow is bright dust:

  5great

  yellow helium

  rabbits with bluetipped ears

  stick the mist-weight

  rain and, from high

  10tussling, yield

  all the way to the ground:

  the rhinoceros’s back darkens.

  1967

  Alternatives

  I can tell you what I need is one of those

  poles Archimedes, thrust

  into an unparalleled transform of intellect to power,

  imagined dangling on the end of which he could

  5move the world with: he was as much a dreamer

  as I was (sic): I thought, given

  a great height, I could do it with words:

  still in a sense I have the dream, I have

  Archimedes’s dream, that is, it hasn’t been tried yet

  10for sure with a pole: with words, I tried it.

  1967

  Positions

  I can tell you what I need is for

  somebody to asseverate I’m a poet

  and in an embroilment and warfare of onrushing words

  heightened by opposing views

  5to maintain I lie down to no man in

  the character and thrust of my speech

  and that everybody who is neglecting me far

  though it be, indeed, from his mind

  is incurring a guilt complex

  10he’ll have to reckon with later on

  and suffer over (I am likely to be

  recalcitrant with leniency):

  what I need I mean is a champion or even

  a host of champions,

  15a phalanx of enthusiasts, driving a spearhead

  or one or two of those big amphibian trucks

  through the peopled ocean of my neglect:

  I mean I don’t want to sound fancy but

  what I could use at the moment is

  20a little destruction
perpetrated in my favor.

  1967

  Reassessing

  I can tell you what I need, what I need

  is a soft counselor laboriously gentle

  his warm dry hands moving with a vanishing persistence

  to explain to me how I fell into this backwater,

  5verse: oh what is the efficacy of

  this lowgrade hallucination, this rhythm not even

  a scientific sine curve:

  I mean I need him to wave it all away,

  syllables spilling through the screens of

  10his soft joints, erasing

  in an enchantment similar to that I would evoke

  all this primitive tribal hooting

  into some wooden or ratty totemic ear:

  boy, I need to hear about the systems analysts,

  15futurists, technocrats, and savvy managers

  who square off a percentage of reality and name their price.

  1967

  Renovating

  I can tell you what I need is a good periodontist:

  my gums are so sensitive, separated and lumpy,

  I have to let my cornflakes sit and wilt:

  the niacin leaks out before I get it in

  5and the ten percent daily requirement of iron

  rusts: I’ve got so mashed potatoes best

  accommodate my desire: my gums

  before them

  relax and, as it were, smile: I have bad dreams that

  10snap, crackle, and pop (to switch seeds)

  have built an invisible wall soggy-resistant: what

  I could use with my gum line

  is like a new start

  or at least a professionally directed reversal or

  15arrest of what has become abrupt recession.

  1967

  Devising

 

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