John Berryman Poems

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Behold I bring you tidings of great joy—
especially now that the snow & gale are still—
for Henry is delivered.
Not only is he delivered from the gale
but he has a little one. He's out of jail
also. It is a boy.

Henry's pleasure in this unusual event
reminds me of the extra told at Hollywood & Vine
that TV cameras
were focussed on him personally then & there
and 'Just a few words . . . Is it what you meant?
Was there a genuine sign?'

Couvade was always Henry's favourite custom,
better than the bride biting off the penises, pal,
remember? All the brothers
marrying her in turn & dying mutilated
until the youngest put in instead a crowbar, pal,
and pulled out not only her teeth but also his brothers' dongs & no
doubt others'.

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