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“Dream Song 115” by John Berryman (1914 – 1972)
Her properties, like her of course & frisky & new:
a stale cake sold to kids, a 7-foot weed
inside in the Great Neck night,
a record (‘great’), her work all over as u-
sual rejected. She odd in a bakery.
The owner stand beside her
and she have to sell to the brother & sister jumping
without say ‘One week old.’ Her indifference
to the fate of her manuscripts
(which flash) to a old hand is truly somefing.
I guess: she’ll take the National Book Award
presently, with like flare & indifference.
A massive, unpremeditated, instantaneous
transfer of solicitude from the thing to the creature
Henry sometimes felt.
A state of chancy mind when facts stick out
frequent was his, while that this shrugging girl,
keen, do not quit, he knelt.
(Having so swiftly, and been by, let down.)