His malice was a pimple down his good
Big face, with its sly eyes. I must be sorry
Mr Frost has left:
I like it so less I don't understood—
He couldn't hear or see well—all we sift—
But this is a bad story.
He had fine stories and was another man
In private; difficult, always. Courteous,
On the whole, in private.
He apologize to Henry, off & on,
For two blue slanders; which was good of him.
I don't know how he made it.
Quickly, off stage with all but kindness, now.
I can't say what I have in mind. Bless Frost,
This line morphs from “for a blue slander” in the  earlier version  of the poem to “two blue slanders” in the later version. One wonders whether Frost had managed to slander Berryman from the grave.
Dream Song 37