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Dream Song 114: Henry in trouble whirped out lonely whines

 Henry in trouble whirped out lonely whines.
When ich when was ever not in trouble? But did he whip out whines afore? And when check in wif ales & lifelines anyone earlier O?—Some, now, Mr Bones, many.
—I am fleeing double: Mr Past being no friends of mine, all them around: Sir Future Dubious, calamitous & grand: I can no foothold here; wherefore I pines for Dr Present, who won't thrive to us hand over neither hand from them blue depths nor choppering down skies does Dr Present vault unto his task.
Henry is weft on his own.
Pluck Dr Present.
Let his grievous wives thrall lie to livey toads.
May his chains bask.
lower him, Capt Owen, into the sun.

Poem by John Berryman
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Book: Shattered Sighs