Poems by 'John Berryman '

A freaking ankle crabbed his blissful trips - by John Berryman

A Strut for Roethke - by John Berryman

A Thurn - by John Berryman

Afters eight years, be less dan eight percent - by John Berryman

All virtues enter into this world - by John Berryman

An apple arc'd toward Kleitos; whose great King - by John Berryman

And where, friend Quo, lay you hiding - by John Berryman

As he grew famous—ah, but what is fame? - by John Berryman

Bards freezing, naked, up to the neck in water - by John Berryman

Behold I bring you tidings of great joy - by John Berryman

Daples my floor the eastern sun, my house faces north - by John Berryman

Do I love? all this applause - by John Berryman

Foes I sniff, when I have less to shout - by John Berryman

General Fatigue stalked in, & a Major-General - by John Berryman

Grief is fatiguing. He is out of it - by John Berryman

Henry Hankovitch, con gua­tar - by John Berryman

Henry in trouble whirped out lonely whines - by John Berryman

Henry of Donnybrook bred like a pig - by John Berryman

Henry's Meditation in the Kremlin - by John Berryman

Henry, edged, decidedly, made up stories - by John Berryman

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