In

by Aram Saroyan

IN was published as a bear press book (La Grande, Oregon) in 1965, handset by Jane Lorgenson. Edition of 150.

Genres: Poetry

10 pages, chapbook

Published January 1, 1965

About the author

Aram Saroyan is an American poet, novelist, biographer, memoirist and playwright. There has been a resurgence of interest in his work in the 21st century, evidenced by the publication in 2007 of several previous collections reissued together as Complete Minimal Poems. He is the son of author William Saroyan and actress Carol Grace, and the father of Strawberry Saroyan.

Reviews

[Andrei Mocuţa · Rating 2 out of 5]

1. I'm trying to write a poem.
2. The broom is in the corner.

[mwpm · Rating 4 out of 5]

Introduction

I have always, beyond belief, hoped to meet, at night and in a woods, a beautiful naked woman or rather, since such a wish once expressed means nothing, I regret, beyond belief, not having met her. Imagining such an encounter is not, after all, so fantastic: it might happen. It seems to me that everything would have stopped short - I would no longer do things as I had done until that moment. The rock cannot be broken. It is the truth.

- Ted Berrigan, 12.1.65

The Paradox

One two
three there
are three are
never seen
again.

*

Placitas, to L.Z.

The trees'
 noise of
 the sea.

*

A new
telephone
on the table.
"If I really see anything,
I hear it too."

A new telephone on the table.

*

Bus Ride

1

A red tractor
 A red tractor
 etcetera


2

fences / finished

*

At A Freak Show

Damn all multiples - Air!

Being

in air
the way a strange word is.

is heard,
strange -

And the eyes on a midget
just blinked

*

Almost Midnight

I type & think & look at the painting of Poe & out 
the window there's the top of my head, to the left 
and behind me, is the bookcase. 

* * * 

in the corner of my room an American! 

* * * 

2 Sentences 

1. I'm trying to write a poem. 

2. The broom is in the corner

*

Is
frowning 
in the sun. The pain is

millions. 
It could 
kill it. By accident.

The skin.

*

Old Poem 

I make another room 
smaller 
in this one

 -there- 

is all I want. 
Carry over to it

 the ashtray

*

My arms are warm.
- Aram Saroyan 

Read the full text here: http://eclipsearchive.org/projects/IN/html/contents.html