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'You feel like you are going through the gutter when you have to read that stuff. I didn't linger on it too long, I assure you.' (an elocution teacher, at the obscenity trial for 'Howl')

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Poem of the Month

 
# 4 from 77 DREAM SONGS by John Berryman

        Filling her compact & delicious body
        with chicken pßprika, she glanced at me
        twice.
        Fainting with interest, I hungered back
        and only the fact of her husband & four other people
        kept me from springing on her

        or falling at her little feet and crying
        'You are the hottest one for years of night
        Henry's dazed eyes
        have enjoyed, Brilliance.' I advanced upon
        (despairing) my spumoni. --Sir Bones: is stuffed,
        de world, wif feeding girls.

        --Black hair, complexion Latin, jewelled eyes
        downcast . . . The slob beside her feasts . . . What wonders is
        she sitting on, over there?
        The restaurant buzzes. She might as well be on Mars.
        Where did it all go wrong? There ought to be a law against Henry.
        --Mr. Bones: there is.






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