John Berryman(1914–1972)
Sonnet 14: "Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so"
L i f e , f r i e n d s , i s b o r i n g . W e m u s t n o t s a y s o .
After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,
we ourselves flash and yearn,
a n d m o r e o v e r m y m o t h e r t o l d m e a s a b o y
(repeatingly) "Ever to confess you're bored
means you have no
Inner Resources. I conclude now I have no
inner resources, because I am heavy bored.
P e o p l e s b o r e m e ,
literature bores me, especially great literature,
Henry bores me, with his plights & gripes
as bad as achilles, 7
w h o l o v e s p e o p l e a n d v a l i a n t a r t , w h i c h b o r e s m e .
And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a drag
and somehow a dog
has taken itself & its tail considerably away
into mountains or sea or sky, leaving
b e h i n d : m e , w a g .