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Best Famous David Berman Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous David Berman poems. This is a select list of the best famous David Berman poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous David Berman poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of David Berman poems.

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by David Berman | |

The Moon

 A web of sewer, pipe, and wire connects each house to the others.
In 206 a dog sleeps by the stove where a small gas leak causes him to have visions; visions that are rooted in nothing but gas.
Next door, a man who has decided to buy a car part by part excitedly unpacks a wheel and an ashtray.
He arranges them every which way.
It’s really beginning to take shape.
Out the garage window he sees a group of ugly children enter the forest.
Their mouths look like coin slots.
A neighbor plays keyboards in a local cover band.
Preparing for an engagement at the high school prom, they pack their equipment in silence.
Last night they played the Police Academy Ball and all the officers slow-danced with target range silhouettes.
This year the theme for the prom is the Tetragrammaton.
A yellow Corsair sails through the disco parking lot and swaying palms presage the lot of young libertines.
Inside the car a young lady wears a corsage of bullet-sized rodents.
Her date, the handsome cornerback, stretches his talons over the molded steering wheel.
They park and walk into the lush starlit gardens behind the disco just as the band is striking up.
Their keen eyes and ears twitch.
The other couples look beautiful tonight.
They stroll around listening to the brilliant conversation.
The passionate speeches.
Clouds drift across the silverware.
There is red larkspur, blue gum, and ivy.
A boy kneels before his date.
And the moon, I forgot to mention the moon.


by David Berman | |

Snow

 Walking through a field with my little brother Seth

I pointed to a place where kids had made angels in the snow.
For some reason, I told him that a troop of angels had been shot and dissolved when they hit the ground.
He asked who had shot them and I said a farmer.
Then we were on the roof of the lake.
The ice looked like a photograph of water.
Why he asked.
Why did he shoot them.
I didn't know where I was going with this.
They were on his property, I said.
When it's snowing, the outdoors seem like a room.
Today I traded hellos with my neighbor.
Our voices hung close in the new acoustics.
A room with the walls blasted to shreds and falling.
We returned to our shoveling, working side by side in silence.
But why were they on his property, he asked.


by David Berman | |

Imagining Defeat

 She woke me up at dawn,
her suitcase like a little brown dog at her heels.
I sat up and looked out the window at the snow falling in the stand of blackjack trees.
A bus ticket in her hand.
Then she brought something black up to her mouth, a plum I thought, but it was an asthma inhaler.
I reached under the bed for my menthols and she asked if I ever thought of cancer.
Yes, I said, but always as a tree way up ahead in the distance where it doesn't matter And I suppose a dead soul must look back at that tree, so far behind his wagon where it also doesn't matter.
except as a memory of rest or water.
Though to believe any of that, I thought, you have to accept the premise that she woke me up at all.


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