The glories of the world struck me, made me aria, once. <br />—What happen then, Mr Bones? <br />if be you cares to say. <br />—Henry. Henry became interested in women's bodies, <br />his loins were & were the scene of stupendous achievement. <br />Stupor. Knees, dear. Pray. <br /> <br />All the knobs & softnesses of, my God, <br />the ducking & trouble it swarm on Henry, <br />at one time. <br />—What happen then, Mr Bones? <br />you seems excited-like. <br />—Fell Henry back into the original crime: art, rime <br /> <br />besides a sense of others, my God, my God, <br />and a jealousy for the honour (alive) of his country, <br />what can get more odd? <br />and discontent with the thriving gangs & pride. <br />—What happen then, Mr Bones? <br />—I had a most marvellous piece of luck. I died.<br /><br />John Berryman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dream-song-26-the-glories-of-the-world-struck-me/
