Anselm Berrigan
the words get together
in the early morning
& decide on who they're
gonna fail that day
they pick people
the people who will
go on to say " language
failed me today "
*****
Vermeer was something of a visitor
Ecumenical (look up) & withheld.
Are they far enough apart outside ?
I travelled through barelife to find
her dream was really in my backyard.
So real life must be happening elsewhere.
In the cushion on fire where you sit
Moving in pictures on the phone sliding
In on two-dollar bills wearing the
Sudden address you barely refuse.
To ground pork we're all loose teeth
Positing entertainment as oblivious
Standard. What, you don't talk to
Collected bits of meat? I put gray
Around my brain to let it breathe
I was told by age in an interview.
A vital sort of non-profession &
A refusal to intersect with the
Crossed-out heads peppering white
Space just write. They are false
Starts & nonetheless records of
Hopeful betrayal. Key lime ginger
Almonds hurt hurtling up rose
Hills in search of survivors. We
Seem behind screen to have
Reduced alienation to a series
Of gaffes. Phooey strikes back
Gloriously far-flung from
The point. Disguised locations.
Say what's there. Confined
To bed each utterance commands.
It's all this ill-fitting conglomerate
in the incomplete happenstance
something constantly expanding
sideways in the past, free as
hell from present definition.
for BB & BG
Self-involved poem for Brandon B. on his Bday
I wonder about the quiet
students - don't we all?
In that generation gap
I explerience within for
Myself, I am the perpetual
Blank of a present student
Self, slowly making aware-
ness come to bleed (I ain't
got time to bleedeth
inherent tears of ass-ertion
going laterally forward)
its disdain for labels in
anarchy class: cancel or
delete? In the case of Afghan
Whigs its like I located
some timing of the funky
so what vein, & then D
told me he was always
doubtful on Dulli, so
maybe my slobject is to
rehear all of 1993 — I
left a doppelgangrene there
Today in zooms of our lives
everyone froze except me
not long after no one could
hear me. It was a lot like 1987
& being 15. I wondered (pigeon
just landed behind me, orange-eyeing
my set up) if it wasn't
time for the post-ghost
to appear in counter-time.
I'm still wondering. Had an
all expression in eye-lines
conversation in person today.
It was this rare bird thing.
an absolute admission of love
by the last book stand in
Manhattan. Presence is the
Establishment of listening's
Practice. Gotta think about
That. Even if you only think
In the gnarly future
Future's end makes way for.
As a quiet student learning
How to learn all the time
I hate what teaching does to
Me & my personal irony.
Soon, which is a money
Problem, I will never let
Anyone put me in charge
in charge of again.
Anselm Berrigan's most recent book of poems is Pregrets, published by Black Square Editions in 2021. A new manuscript of poems, Don't Forget to Love Me, will be published at an undisclosed date in the so-called future.