Reading Merwin writing about Berryman and
I can never read about Berryman
Or read Berryman without thinking
Of those last moments knowing
He had missed the river, broke
His back on the banks of,
Not far from where he wrote, not
Far from where he taught, not
Far from where he got drunk one last time, not far
From anywhere in the middle of the
Campus, lying broke-backed on the
Shore of the Mississippi, dying
After jumping
And I’ve never asked which bank he was on but
I imagine it could be either, it
Really doesn’t matter, under the bridge, last breaths, failing
At even hitting the river, hopefully with a
Bottle he could take one last tug at.
PWS
Six Notebooks 