learning the epistemology of loss

Ed — Tue, 11 Sep 2007 11:11:00 +0100

There’s something about the clipped and refined tones of the poet John Berryman which makes me laugh, particularly when he’s describing the existential anguish of a young boy coming to terms with the loss of a ball.

THE BALL POEM

What is the boy now, who has lost his ball,
What, what is he to do? I saw it go
Merrily bouncing, down the street, and then
Merrily over–there it is in the water!
No use to say ‘O there are other balls’:
An ultimate shaking grief fixes the boy
As he stands rigid, trembling, staring down
All his young days into the harbour where
His ball went. I would not intrude on him,
A dime, another ball, is worthless. Now
He senses first responsibility
In a world of possessions. People will take balls,
Balls will be lost always, little boy,
And no one buys a ball back. Money is external.
He is learning, well behind his desperate eyes,
The epistemology of loss, how to stand up
Knowing what every man must one day know
And most know many days, how to stand up
And gradually light returns to the street
A whistle blows, the ball is out of sight,
Soon part of me will explore the deep and dark
Floor of the harbour . . I am everywhere,
I suffer and move, my mind and my heart move
With all that move me, under the water
Or whistling, I am not a little boy.

Listen to the recording of John Berryman reading this poem if you like, and have a laugh at the expense of all little boys.

This Entangled Bank: learning the epistemology of loss

learning the epistemology of loss