Sport 11: Spring 1993
John Newton — Lost Weekend
John Newton
Lost Weekend
1
everyone else’s naive aspiration
simply
Speak the speech
lord, the most ample weary life
most sleep of death
detained an hour
*
anachrony of the I confess
the Author, then in ill health
some way along that commonsense journey
rebound the old handwritten body
2
future
agony those interpretations
I could accuse me of such things as
in the unlikely blasted with ecstasy
hank Fortune
cast
momently was
3
a stately garden
thereunto she caught me in
the other writing
imitation after / something
dutiful
of professional dread
*
Anne Boleyn
entails him
the newfangled body
of his writing problem
4
difficult differences of vision
images How thin they are
the struggling basic language
hero’s mis-shaped force the
body listens
*
dayes deep random as it
were remembrances
their perfumed jargon
5
Lord, lord those
contemptible heart-aches
his damaging phrasing
his aphorism system
where was
even from being
in darknesse
heard
him most humbly
the symphony of
*
(like bricks) in space her
sibylline injurious
song in any form
6
a sunless sea
for trippingly
revisited
attracted me
the passion master
sicklied o’er
to rags and tatters
written thee
*
page 50
her dulcimer, her green
goodness
the technical language
of neglected love
7
to his no small
joy and mortification
to almost disappear off the map
the air
the too much / someone else’s
book / the spine
the real item
*
to action only prepositional
chamber phrase
the Russian of form
Ay, truly
form
force
anachrony
tradition of song
8
the body floating someone
else’s
spurious injury
now awaking
old Otherhand
to a lonely farm-house
and on his return to his room
found, written