Here are some of Carroll’s collaborations with other writers, all published only in magazines (or not at all, in the case of “Back Up Front”). “10 Things I Do When I Shoot Up,” published only in the Another World<\/i> anthology, is here because it refers directly to Ted Berrigan’s “10 Things I Do Every Day.” I’ve also included the last piece, “Red Rabbit Running Backwards,” because it’s a sort of cutup of Organic Trains<\/i> . . . quite possibly done by Ted Berrigan and published in Carroll’s name. Bonus trivia question: why is “Chez Rivers” included in this little collection?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
True Love (for ee cummings) With a little tooty shriek It is not pleasant Shriek<\/p>\n\n\n\n Why is the cry of the moorhen so lonely A sob like Mach 2 on Borthor<\/p>\n\n\n\n The egrets shuffle along the walls like a squirrel Under the mattress for a word with the mole<\/p>\n\n\n\n And here is longitude, looping<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n Over the fender like an exhaust pipe “Sanctuary!”) and<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n The crowd arose and dispersed in the noisy summer wind<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n July 21, 1968<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n Back Up Front (for Ted Berrigan)<\/span> Now that you’re coming back<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n I thought you’d never go with wet spots on our brains you walking there either way you play it Ted, I’ve come to Now the only thing that’s missing is And today you’re back 1.20.70<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n 10 Things I Do When I Shoot Up Chez Rivers<\/span> Go to the window You won’t find it.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n It’s night.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n Sleep attentively instead and<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n If you close the door (Leave the glasses where they are)<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n You’re in a house. Red Rabbit Running Backwards (for A. W.) Frantic sounds of make-up torn from a face All poems \u00a9 1970, 1973, 1976 by Jim Carroll
By Carter Ratcliff, Jim Carroll, and Peter Schjeldahl
Penumbra<\/i> 8 (1970)<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n
The funny train tottered in
(Quilted overcoats!)
O China, there is a wall between us
A wall covered with velvet hangings
And between the hangings huge shields
And crossed weapons of fantastic make<\/p>\n\n\n\n
To come upon death in a lonely place at midnight<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When it is surrounded by all the other moorhens?
The wind is surrounding us like a question and
Then a question mark followed by an exclamation point
And then a parenthesis that locks us up on this planet like gravity<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They leap high
Pass beneath us
Wheel
And charge back<\/p>\n\n\n\n
While breath continues to slide along the wet pavement
And the hockey teams clumsily prepare for winter
“Ah, November!” shriek
the hockey teams, “you are here already with
your fierce skies and piercing flakes!” pounding
each other with their sticks for joy
(And here come the King, barons, courtiers,
soldiers, locusts from a cloudy sky, Ren\u00e9
Ricard radiant in the blushing Cathedral,
Pastors swarming the alcove:<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\n
By Bill Berkson and Jim Carroll
From the library of Ted Berrigan<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
leaving us<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
like napkins tossed
across Second Avenue<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
in that elephant way
See to it
that this time you stay<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
3 ladies are terrific
even a little terrifying
in their dotty chintzes
& haggish scowls
But they’re not you.
See to it
that you’ll try to
see it my way
as strides match up
yours is a light one
we ride on with it or fall
by the wayside, but not today<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
miss you
like a Prodigal’s son<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
The bloody moon in that kitchen sink<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
To see about it,
you think.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\n
<\/span>Another World: A Second Anthology of Works from the St. Mark’s Poetry Project<\/span><\/i>, ed. Anne Waldman (Bobbs-Merrill, 1970)
<\/span><\/b>
Go to the mirror
comb my hair down straight
put on the Velvet Underground
nod out
my silver ring
read tiny poems
outline each future
everything fine
watch a Sherlock Holmes movie
check to see how much is left
go to the restaurants and flirt
sing I shall be released
nod out
giant beds with everyone I know
no sex<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\n
Transatlantic Review<\/i> 55\/56 (1976)<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
and raise these fingers
to the sun.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
The night might last forever . . .<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
It’s a good house.
Babies breathe in this house.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\n
<\/span>Stone Wind<\/span><\/i> 4 (1973): 113-114<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
no!
we are both sick of zoo fantasy
to feel that way
the true winter would expose the icy jaws
of meat hung up above expensive neckties
so a candy heart is now a rock that indicates silence
(dada)
& a song rises and realizes that its function is to be sung,
flatly,
not to sing. lead on fellow Americans
melt it on and fit my love
in a hurricane. The aesthetic value of a red tee shirt
you making me see that could be what I mean
if it were not for the fact that the hurricane has bent the trees
and I can’t see anything, in fact I can only feel. can only feel
the 8 colors inside which somehow seem to indicate that
all the clocks are falling on and around me from the sky.
The Communists know what I mean. But they hang out overseas
Which is why I am moving about in subway cars seeking
A jeweled carrot to feed this persistent rabbit which
a beautiful lady liar assured me actually had been cleverly
trapped for good last week in a cage of solid beef. The rabbit
Is probably the key to all of this. Rabbit ears.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\n
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED – UNAUTHORIZED DUPLICATION PROHIBITED<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"