The Sonnets by Ted Berrigan

Wow, I was a dummy in the past, if you've been paying attention you know this, don't you, but here, I'm not talking about my staggering and LOVEFEAR, no, just poetry, and how sometimes I can't read, or read right, like I wanna, like with these poems by Berrigan, when I first read, I thought eh okay and wuzz and get it together man, but I was wrong, totally, they're huge and wild and so important, the mesh of influences, both poetic and LIFE, time running and doing, ever-changing and rearranging, wow.

Here are my favorite lines from this book, yeah I don't know why I'm cataloging my favorite lines, but I am, it feels right:

from VI

"And the green rug nestled against the furnaceDust had covered all the tacks, the hammer...optimism for the jump...The taste of such delicate thoughtsNever bring the dawn."

from XXXII

"A farmer drove up on a tractor
He said he was puzzled by the meaning exactly of "block".
The blue day! Where else can we go
To escape from or tedious homes, and perhaps recapture the past?"

from XXXVI

"                I never thought on the Williams-
burg bridge I'd come so much to Brooklyn
just to see lawyers and cops who don't even carry
guns taking my wife away and bringing her back"

from XLII

"               The black heart beside the 15 pieces of glass
Of my many faceted and fake appearance
The most elegant present I could get!"

from L

"Whatever is going to happen is already happening
Some people prefer "the interior monologue"
I like to beat people up"

from LXXIII

"                           at heart we are infinite, we are
ethereal, we are weird!" 

For M & K

I regret to inform you
To inform you I regret
I can’t make your wedding
Your wedding I can’t make
but good news: you still can.
But me, I can’t bear it.
I’m not a bear, you see,
I’m the fog in the forest.
My skin is like the paper
your marriage is typed on.
There’s two lines to say, I’m worn
thin. Then again, I’m the earth
folded in half. I’d hate to suck
you in. Truth is: I’m a divorce
not finalized. Maybe, you can’t
understand because you’re a week
from dancing nuptials, from smiling
church pews. I’ve been there, I know.
But me, yes me again, I designed
my shit poorly, my bad, whoops.
Can I be selfish for a moment?
Since when do I need permission?
Three months of shaking myself
awake, drinking myself to sleep,
the thought of another church
and our family with their white
dentures and white perms and
K, you with your white dress,
I’m a storm no one wants to chase.
Hide the dinnerware, hide my slice
of cake because right now I’m all fury.
I’d like to be sorry, so here’s a song:
Oh joy to those lovebirds flutter fly
but my bird got the flu, I need to lie down.
Whoops. Can’t even make it two lines
without ME ME ME. The poem
I’ve been writing all day says
MY HEART STILL WORKS
but I didn’t write that, so
hey hey don’t let me steal
your spotlight. I’m gonna go lie down.