The Carrier of Ladders
Poems by W. S. Merwin


Ferguson Library
Date Due

Jun – 3 1975

Jun 9 1976

Nov 16 ’76
Jan 24 1977
Aug 15 1977
Feb 21 ’78

Jan 11 1979

May 19 1979

Jun 13 1979
Nov 22 1980

May 6 1981
Jun 22 1982
Dec 4 1982

May 25 1983
May 28 1987
Jun 17 1987


Jul 7 – 1987

Jul 28 1987
Aug 17 1987
Nov 2 1989
Jun 11 1990
Jul 2 1990

Jul 16 1990


Jul 30 1990
Sep 7 1990
Oct 11 1990

Oct 31 1990

waiting for the final
misstep I stay inside
air conditioner ping
tink heavy dark air I
make spear points for some self
I wish I could discard
that sinking twist in the
gut deprive the fall of
all color but the game
gives up and talks about
dreams of cooking techniques
sneaks under floorboards after
brandy and cigars in
an old book and then
we may taste something new

Reading Tender Buttons always just about to make sense a half-learned a real language you can still laugh like kindergarten maybe or waking from a dream having to pee you guess what Susie Asado looked like from the tea maybe maybe maybe tea maybe not maybe it’s all too sexy a stupid man like me will never understand and I am as mutton I know she’s from a different book but so what if it rhymes like butter falling off bread to glow too glow wait where are you going are we going don’t tell me don’t tell anyone the secret keeps the bread fresh the glass hurt

dear friend, we’re it not for the tears held back—
but no, let me start again. After all, it is spring
and the half-clinging leather of newly uncovered

corpses satisfies the flies. But that’s not it either.
Somewhere around here there is a small book from
the past that I’ve carried for years and never read.