The Complete Poems of A R Ammons, Volume 1 Page 18

  roil & change—

  hold intestines in place:

  so

  the exchanges can go

  1860on, the trades in

  blood, lymph,

  food, waste, water:

  traffic through

  barriers, each selective,

  1865responsive:

  if you have condemned the

  body, you have

  condemned a miraculous

  residence—

  1870temple

  we should try to keep

  the right spirit in:

  the aggregates! the

  widening accumulations,

  1875providing the molecules,

  proteins, triggers

  we need:

  imperfect, tho beautiful,

  body: when it can

  1880no longer defend, repair,

  grow—when mineral

  ash (that could not be

  processed away) stiffens

  the cell walls

  1885so they lose flexibility

  & effect—then the balance

  turns

  to invasion and

  disintegration:

  1890nothing permanent is old:

  what is forever has no

  youth or age: if you

  could choose, how

  wd you choose?

  1895the biochemist, first

  seeing how

  two molecules select each

  other & interlink

  must think he

  1900beholds

  a face of God:

  & from the center of all

  these balances,

  coordinations,

  1905allowances,

  integrations—waves

  register & float away into

  nothingness: there is

  mind:

  1910before you desecrate this

  place, study its

  architecture:

  but the mind doesn’t

  insist we know all

  1915this: its commands

  are few:

  reproduce this temple

  before it falls:

  food, water:

  1920barriers!

  what is it, exactly, that

  exists

  when I see fish

  travel in water & birds

  1925in air?

  resemblance

  tying high above

  difference:

  wings, fins: air, water:

  13 DEC:

  1930my book came today, Friday

  the 13th

  woooooooooooooooooooooooo

  wooo wooo woooooooooooooo

  6:35 pm: we went

  1935Christmas shopping at

  Korvette’s and

  Cherry Hill:

  had dinner just now

  over to Somers Point at

  1940Mac’s: fried shrimp—

  & Phyllis had

  crab:

  they have a good salad

  dressing there: don’t

  1945know what it is

  (on the

  order of French) but

  they call it “Mac’s”:

  bought Aristophanes’s

  1950complete plays, very

  saxy (I hope)—I’d read

  Frogs & Clouds (no, it ws

  Birds) before:

  mostly, I walked

  1955around carrying my

  bk:

  14 DEC:

  today

  came in an

  opposite way

  1960of rain turning into snow:

  when I woke up

  the gutterspouts were

  dripping musical flutes:

  the tones dangled &

  1965broke &

  ran together with

  inexhaustible variety of

  mood & shape:

  but now (10:50 a.m.) the

  1970same colorless, closed sky

  turns weight

  into fluff, fast pellets

  into slow blurs

  that touch rainpools with

  1975many-fingered hiss

  & melt into silence: &

  the grass seems

  to rise up &

  cushioning bring down

  1980the flakes:

  as if a god slept hereabouts

  and meant to make a winter

  of his sleep:

  (snow, a servant to

  1985Agathon, cloistered up

  with odes)

  soft prisons are the

  worst kind: bars

  & stones are

  1990honest, exact,

  but this insinuation,

  insisting it’s not itself,

  this deepening

  with universal touch: not

  1995a path, road

  left: only circles of

  melt-stain under naked

  trees (the flakes

  caught in a

  2000foliage to

  branches) as if

  the roots

  sent up a warmth of

  protest

  2005or stirred radiating

  summer dreams:

  and (it’s not very cold)

  the foliage melts & hangs

  rainbeads

  2010on twigs & branches—

  points of clarity

  concentrating light

  into sources:

  no birds this

  2015morning: they

  fear these white bodies

  that fly into a still

  white starvation:

  a few seed, hung on

  2020weeds & grasses, fall

  & pepper the snow:

  the reason I write so much

  is

  that I can’t do anything

  2025else:

  poem must be now

  close to 40 feet long: I

  can’t get it out

  to write letters or

  2030postcards or anything:

  well

  if

  it

  must

  2035be

  onward

  to

  the

  end,

  2040let’s

  get

  there

  in

  a

  2045hurry: or

  is that cheating?

  every time the roll turns

  it speeds up: as the

  diameter decreases, the

  2050revolutions per foot (rpf)

  increase, so the poem

  should rise to a pitch of

  unwinding

  at the end: a

  2055spinning of diameter into

  nothingness:

  exclusions:

  lepers on their islands,

  drunks imprisoned in

  2060drunkenness,

  the disappearances (un-

  noticed—the streets

  seem always full,

  lively & young enough)

  2065into illness, stiff bones,

  strokes, graves:

  the silent child that stays

  indoors,

  unable to connect:

  2070I feel the bitterness of

  fate: I feel the

  bitterness of fate:

  what it means to

  drive away from the

  2075house: take a walk

  down the street:

  join the daylight

  world’s clean going:

  are we as innocent of our

  2080joy

  as they are of their

  despair?

  must do what we can,

  accept the rest:

  2085God, help us: help us:

  we praise Your light:

  give us light to do what

  we can with darkness:

  courage

  2090to celebrate Your

  light

  even while the

  bitterdrink

  is being
drunk:

  2095give us the will

  to love

  those

  who cannot love:

  a touch of the dark

  2100so we can know how one,

  hungry for the light,

  can

  turn away:

  we’re here together:

  2105is it known,

  has it been determined

  what is right to do?

  give us a song

  sanctified

  2110by Your divinity

  to make us new

  & certain of the right:

  should I sacrifice

  myself for

  2115others? would

  they, alarmed,

  turn in confusion

  against me?

  should I care for

  2120myself only,

  bring to its fullest

  enunciation

  what fate says in me?

  we’re here together,

  2125though:

  let us know when

  to reach out &

  when to withdraw:

  & so & so

  2130the snow has

  turned to grit: I had

  lunch after

  “who cannot love”—

  soup, sandwich, milk,

  2135chocolate fudge cookie, &

  coffee (my wife’s home

  today)—most

  of the week she

  works,

  2140while I sit

  home in

  idleness:

  I’m waiting to hear if

  Cornell will give me

  2145a job: I need

  to work &

  maybe I write

  too much:

  silenced by

  2150exclusion: we

  don’t hear the

  suffering: it

  doesn’t exist

  and we are untroubled:

  2155prisons!

  constellations!

  shapes that possess

  &

  entangle the mind!

  2160run yourself through

  Beethoven’s

  Sonata Pathétique &

  exist like a bush!

  willing entrapment

  2165of cell walls &

  diamonds, a giving

  of the self

  over

  into shape, structure

  2170played upon

  by motion & flesh!

  they say there are

  water molecules in the

  void—

  2175then it’s not empty!—

  motions racing

  through, particles &

  drifts, a structure

  woven

  2180beyond the

  diaphanous:

  but here

  around the roots of trees,

  a black engendering:

  2185prisons,

  hold fast!

  safe in these cages, I

  sing joys

  that never were

  2190in any thorough jungle:

  but betimes & at times

  let me out of here:

  I will penetrate into the

  void

  2195& bring back

  nothingness

  to surround all these

  shapes with!

  closing in

  2200without closing:

  running through

  without filling:

  opening out

  with walls:

  2205run my poem through

  your life & it will

  exist in you

  like a protein

  molecule:

  2210clothes to try on, wear,

  abandon or keep:

  put away in the closet,

  a memory ectoplasmic

  with gone joys:

  2215what am I doing?

  what are my innermost

  feelings?

  do I know what I’m doing

  or am I waiting

  2220for it to

  be done?

  my innermost feeling is

  a silky pouring of

  semen, a rich

  2225disturbance

  in the groin,

  broken loose, flowing free:

  I remember a stallion

  had been stalled for wks:

  2230in the lot surrounding

  him were mules & mares:

  someone let down the

  gate &

  he hit the nearest

  2235bony old mule and gave

  her a rapt opening,

  invasion & filling,

  & in a slick moment he

  was shot: as if shot,

  2240dropped to the ground

  and the loose wobbling

  weight

  poured & poured on the

  ground

  2245& he came up & took her

  again: she braced

  herself and groaned:

  the rich pouring

  of this verbal

  2250itch:

  I fall back:

  shot:

  winded:

  God, relieved, sweet

  2255floating relief:

  imprisoned in marvelous

  desire

  and set free! beautiful

  bth gng in & cmng out:

  2260the men, embarrassed,

  joked & hid

  their hard-ons against

  the fence: they

  knew the stallion

  2265stalled in the prison of

  his honest lust: you,

  find the exit,

  the wooly

  entry

  2270and go free & take an

  honest part

  in the community: many

  things to be

  accounted for,

  2275to take into account:

  oh this poem is long:

  the tape’s still thick

  & slow:

  Muse, come & take my

  2280riding, rouse my riding:

  we got a long long way

  to go: present

  the cage men will

  dwell in, design the

  2285gleaming city:

  cars hiss on the highway:

  typewriter clicks:

  the thermostat snaps:

  (sounds like a motorcycle

  2290out there)

  the day’s unchanged—gray

  undivided clouds:

  but the

  snow’s stopped:

  2295we went out after “& we

  are untroubled” up there:

  I unpacked my mother-in-law’s

  new dishes

  & Phyllis helped wash them:

  2300(forbidden, theirs is

  forbidden suffering:

  they turn inward & inward

  calls hopelessly

  to inward: song, poor

  2305song, lift them outward

  if you can)

  an object,

  exactly perceived

  & described is

  2310when entered in the

  tapestry

  somewhat compromised:

  part strength flows

  from it

  2315to its

  compositional environment:

  no tapestry

  without

  this clustering,

  2320giving up of strength:

  no tapestry then! if it

  impose what may

  enter! forget it!

  but no exact

  2325thing, either,

  unless it

  calls & calls away to

  kindred things:

  the job is

  2330honest,

  full as a suspected

  reality

  of tensions: to keep

  the object clear as

  2335it can be (& itself),

  the

  tapestry “one” as it can

  be,

&n
bsp; without tyranny:

  2340partial solutions: men

  feared

  at the end of the 19th

  century

  that they were going to

  2345solve the universe: no

  more need of physicists!

  just as the

  whole fell

  together it

  2350fell apart:

  innocent again,

  the physicists are

  re-employed:

  (I’m glad somebody’s

  2355working:

  wish I were making some

  money myself)

  @

  back off there, populace!

  2360the poet will have a little

  room!

  disburden the area: hey,

  you: git off da stage!

  the poet will take

  2365a little distance on:

  what?

  can you think these

  “private” things are

  private?

  2370they were got from

  jokes & dirty books:

  the poet, lawsee, but

  sings to the general

  & claims

  2375but the murmur in the words:

  have at you, sir!

  the poor employee of the

  ruling queen, the listener

  to lies that

  2380they may become truth:

  the raiser of halcyons

  into storm: the public

  voice

  that has no pleading of

  2385its own: but, indeed,

  bends to the great,

  will take coins

  to th’amusement:

  that will, cold as a

  2390glass, give

  the hag the hag,

  the beauty beauty, the

  evildoer his face:

  to the courts with your

  2395disgraceful shows!

  here

  the poet lolls, suckled

  up in the rapture of his

  sacred saying:

  2400a nerveless creature

  because all nerves:

  odd-one-out

  because he stands aside to

  see: fool that makes

  2405foolishness a law:

  will you be ruled,