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Dream Song 97: Henry of Donnybrook bred like a pig

 Henry of Donnybrook bred like a pig,
bred when he was brittle, bred when big,
how he's sweating to support them.
Which birthday of the brighter darker man, the Goya of the Globe & Blackfriars, whom— our full earth smiled on him squeezing his old heart with a daughter loose (hostages they áre)—the world's produced, so far, alarms, alarms.
Fancy the chill & fatigue four hundred years award a warm one.
All we know is ears.
My slab lifts up its arms in a solicitude entire, too late.
Of brutal revelry gap your mouth to state: Front back & backside go bare! Cats' blackness, booze,blows, grunts, grand groans.
Yo-bad yõm i-oowaled bo v'ha'l lail awmer h're gawber! —Now, now, poor Bones.

by John Berryman
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