Chicano Poet

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Meeting Mr. Berryman

The first time I met Mr. Berryman,
he said, “Call me John”
though I knew that weren’t his real name.

I could see Mr. Bones in his eyes,
and Herr Henry lurked in there, too.
Both enemies of the skullcap and the fez.

Hell, enemies of everything American!
A lone whisker on his chin
which he had missed while shaving

remains in my mind to this day.
He was enamored of English incorrect
and worshipped women’s bottoms---

what man in his right mind doesn’t?
I left my hero to his fate.
Each word came out of him screaming like a baby.


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