He stared at ruin. Ruin stared straight back. <br />He thought they was old friends. He felt on the stair <br />where her papa found them bare <br />they became familiar. When the papers were lost <br />rich with pals' secrets, he thought he had the knack <br />of ruin. Their paths crossed <br /> <br />and once they crossed in jail; they crossed in bed; <br />and over an unsigned letter their eyes met, <br />and in an Asian city <br />directionless & lurchy at two & three, <br />or trembling to a telephone's fresh threat, <br />and when some wired his head <br /> <br />to reach a wrong opinion, 'Epileptic'. <br />But he noted now that: they were not old friends. <br />He did not know this one. <br />This one was a stranger, come to make amends <br />for all the imposters, and to make it stick. <br />Henry nodded, un-.<br /><br />John Berryman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dream-song-45-he-stared-at-ruin-ruin-stared-stra/
