I chose a random poetry book to read while eating lunch and the first poem in it is really weird!

I'm going to try to approximate the indention:

A BERRY FEAST

1

Fur the color of mud, the smooth loper
Crapulous old man, a drifter,
Praises! of Coyote the Nasty, the fat
Puppy that abused himself, the ugly gambler,
Bringer of goodies.

    In bearshit find it in August,
    Neat pile on the fragrant trail, in late
    August, perhaps by a Larch tree
    Bear has been eating the berries.
              high meadow, late summer, snow gone
    Blackbear
              eating berries, married
    To a woman whose breasts bleed
    From nursing the half-human cubs.
         Somewhere of couse there are people
         collecting and junking, gibbering all day,

"Where I shoot my arrows
"There is the sunflower's shade
           --song of the rattlesnake
              coiled in the boulder's groin
"K'ak, k'ak, k'ak!
              sang Coyote. Mating with
              humankind--

          The Chainsaw falls for boards of pine,
          Suburban bedrooms, block on block
          Will waver with this grain and knot,
          The maddening shapes will start and fade
          Each morning when commuters wake--
          Joined boards hung on frames,
                    a box to catch the biped in.

               and shadow swings around the tree
     Shifting on the berrybush
               from leaf to leaf across each day
     The shadow swings around the tree.


2

     Three, down, through windows
     Dawn leaping cats, all barred brown, grey
     Whiskers aflame
               bits of mouse on the tongue

     Washing the coffeepot in the river
               the baby yelling for breakfast,
     Her breasts, black-nippled, blue-veined, heavy,
     Hung through the loose shirt
               squeezed, with the free hand
                    white jet in three cups,
     Cats at dawn
               derry derry down

Creeks wash clean where trout hide
We chew the black plug
Sleep on needles through long afternoons
               "you shall be owl
               "you shall be sparrow
               "you will grow thick and green, people
               "will eat you, you berries!
Coyote: shot from the car, two ears,
A tail, bring bounty

     Clanks of tread
               oxen of Shang
               moving the measured road

Bronze bells at the throat
Bronze balls on the horns, the bright Oxen
Chanting through sunlight and dust
          wheeling logs down hills
             into heaps,
                            the yellow
       Fat-snout Caterpillar, tread toppling forward
       Leaf on leaf, roots in gold volcanic dirt.

     When
     Snow melts back
          from the trees
     Bare branches      knobbed pine twigs
        hot sun on wet flowers
     Green shoots of huckleberry
     Breaking through snow.


3

       Belly stretched taut in a bulge
       Breasts swelling as you guzzle beer, who wants
                         Nirvana?
       Here is water, wine, beer
       Enough books for a week
       A mess of afterbirth,
       A smell of hot earth, a warm mist
       Steams from the crotch

"You can't be killers all your life
"The people are coming--
          --and when Magpie
Revived him, limp rag of fur in the river
Drowned and drifting, fish-food in the shallows,
"Fuck you!" sang Coyote
               and ran.

     Delicate blue-black, sweeter from meadows
     Small and tart in the valleys, with light blue dust
     Huckleberries scatter through pine woods
     Crowd along gullies, climb dusty cliffs,
     Spread through the air by birds;
     Find them in droppings of bear.

        "Stopped in the night
        "Are hot pancakes in a bright room
        "Drank coffee, read the paper
        "In a strange town, drove on,
           singing, as the drunkard swerved the car
        "Wake from your dreams, bright ladies!
        "Tighten your legs, squeeze demons from
           the crotch with rigid thighs
        "Young red-eyed men will come
        "With limp erections, snuffling cries
        "To dry your stiffening bodies in the sun!

        Woke at the beach. Grey dawn,
        Drenched with rain. One naked man
        Frying his horsemeat on a stone.


4

Coyote yelps, a knife!
Sunrise on yellow rocks.
People gone, death no disaster,
Clear sun in the scrubbed sky
                   empty and bright
Lizards scurry from darkness
We lizards sun on yellow rocks.

     See, from the foothills
     Shred of river glinting, trailing,
     To flatlands, the city:
               glare of haze in the valley horizon
     Sun caught on glass gleams and goes.
     From cool springs under cedar
     On his haunches, white grin,
               long tongue panting, he watches:

Dead city in dry summer,
Where berries grow.

- Gary Snyder

Here's a poem I like better by a guy named Wallace Stevens, especially the last three lines:

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.