Berryman Anecdote

p
o
e
m
s

He came into the Grolier

carrying his head,

hungover like death.

He told of the time

he’d come into a class

and to introduce himself

written his name, hand

shaking, on the blackboard.

He turned and saw rows

of puzzled faces then turned

back to the board then back

to the class, “They didn’t hire

me,” ash shook from his hand,

“for my penmanship.”

 

William Corbett is a poet, memoirist, and writer on art. He lives in Brooklyn, where he directs the small press Pressed Wafer.

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 January 11

For now, Iranians don’t seem to be telegraphing the need for or hunger to dismantle their government and rebuild it from the from the ground up.